Better Late than Never
by legalliz
Summary: How does one escape a negative cycle? By breaking it, of course. Stephanie Plum frees herself from the ruts she often falls prey to by leaving. Slightly AU. Strong Stephanie story.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: All standard disclaimers apply: not mine, characters and backgrounds belong to JE, no money, etc. Just had a little bee in my bonnet for this one. I'm a classic pantser (writer's term meaning I like to "fly by the seat of my pants"), so I have very little idea where this is actually going. Just a beginning and an end. Fun may ensue in the middle :) Thanks for reading!_

Everyone makes bad decisions sometimes. It could be the leftovers you decided to eat even though they smelled a little funny. Or the cute boy you decided to kiss when he said it was just a cold. Yeah, three weeks of mono was so not worth it.

My bad decision for today just so happened to be going a smidge over the posted speed limit. In my defense though, I'm not really from around here and these are like the Podunk backroads, not grade-school infested residential. Unfortunately, the black and white flashing his colors behind me didn't really look like he cared.

I pulled over and debated whether to go with the pouty lip of remorse or the innocent "who, me?" eyelash flutter. Considering I'd watched the needle start sliding down around the sixty-five mark when I saw the cop, I decided remorse was probably the better way to go.

I rolled down my window and tried to think of something sad.

"Hi, there," the uniform said.

I glanced up and squinted against the brightness of the sun. "Officer."

He was tall and sturdy. Not the most handsome cop I'd ever seen, but he was no slouch either. Light, short hair, strong jaw. Maybe a nice smile buried somewhere, but he wasn't offering to show it at the moment.

"Have any idea how fast you were going just now, ma'am?"

Somehow I caught myself before giving him a massive eye roll. I absolutely detested being called "ma'am."

"I kinda get the feeling it wasn't what it should've been."

"Good intuition. I clocked you going sixty-eight in a fifty."

Oops. "Would you believe me if I said I was trying to reach eighty-eight so I could go back and change my future?"

He shook his head. "No, but it's definitely one of the better excuses I've heard lately. Can I get your license and registration?"

I sighed before digging my wallet out from my handbag. Then Officer No-Smile took my stuff and walked back to his car.

This was my third driving infraction in six months. And thanks to this lovely point system the state currently had going, I was one slip-up away from having my license suspended. Yay…

On a positive note, the car I was driving had been in my care for over two years now. Most people would be like hey, big whoop. But for me, two years was like a freaking eternity. Back in the day, I was lucky if my cars lasted five minutes. I chalked it up to some long overdue positive car karma.

The cop came back with my ticket a few minutes later. Guess maybe that karma wasn't so positive after all.

He tapped the roof of my car. "You might want to consider sticking to the straight and narrow for a while, Ms. Plum. Eleven points against your record doesn't bode so well if you want to hang on to that license of yours."

"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind."

He gave me a small half smile. "And last time I checked, you need a DeLorean with a flux capacitor to do the whole time travel thing. A cute little Nissan like yours just isn't going to cut it."

"Right. Silly me."

He shook his head and walked back to his car. I made sure to buckle up before signaling properly and pulling back out onto the road. Not five minutes later and I saw flashing lights behind me again. Crap. What had I done now?

I pulled over and thunked my head on the steering wheel waiting for Officer Nitpicky.

"Hi again," I said as I rolled down my window. "Funny how we seem to keep bumping into each other."

My new cop friend wasn't looking quite as stern this time around. In fact he was looking kind of fidgety.

"This probably wasn't the best way to do this, but I'd kick myself for at least a week if I didn't ask."

"Ask what?"

"If you'd have dinner with me sometime."

"As in a _date_?"

He smiled. "You seem surprised."

"Maybe a little."

Truth is, I was _really_ surprised. It had been over six months since my last date request. Mostly because I avoided any potential opportunities like the plague. No bars, no clubs. I even wiped my makeup off before going to the grocery store. What are the odds some random cop would break my lucky streak?

"Listen, I'm really flattered…"

His shoulders slumped slightly. "It was pulling you over again, wasn't it?"

"No. That was kind of cute actually."

"Yeah?"

"Sure. But the thing is, I just don't do the whole dating scene. I kind of left it behind when I moved out here."

"Off men, huh?"

I shrugged. "Been considering joining a nunnery for a while actually. You know, like in The Sound of Music?"

The cop gave a small laugh. "You do realize she ends up married in that, right?"

"Oh. Right. Bad example." I sighed. "Listen, it's nothing against you, but I just can't. That's all there is to it."

"Shame." The cop pulled a notepad from his pocket and jotted something down. He handed it to me. "If you ever change your mind, let me know. Or if you just want some company for a Back to the Future marathon." He gave me a wink before heading back to his car.

This time he took off before I did. Gave me a small wave as he drove past. Rats. Bet if I would've agreed to the date, he might have torn up the ticket. Oh well.

I drove another five miles and turned onto a gravel lane. The rocks clicked beneath my tires, and I stopped at a rusty mailbox. There were a few bills along with a small envelope with a Jersey postmark. Probably a thank-you from my mom.

It was still weird to see my name sitting above an Idaho address. Idaho. Three years ago I wasn't even sure I knew where the state was located. East-coasters tended to get it mixed up with Iowa. Hey, few letters, begins with an "I." Easy mistake, right?

I pulled under the make-shift car port and took a moment to admire the little house it belonged to. Nothing much. A two-bedroom, one bath that still needed a few repairs. But it was mine. I'd done the impossible and bought a house. Me. Stephanie Plum.

The recurring realization felt so good, I almost forgot about my speeding ticket. Up until the moment I went to gather my things and saw it peeking out from the top of my handbag. Along with Officer Flirty's number.

"Sheesh, Plum," I scolded myself. "You could've at least gotten a free meal out of it." I shook my head. Surely I wasn't that cold and jaded. Maybe I was just hungry. After all, my stomach had been rumbling obnoxiously since I left work.

The house was quiet and empty when I opened the door. Just the way I liked it. I headed straight for the kitchen and cracked the freezer. It was packed with little plastic containers; single-serve meals all ready for the microwave. I surveyed my options and settled on a hearty chicken tortilla soup I'd made a couple weeks ago.

While it cooked, I took off my bra and pulled on a hoodie and sweatpants. Comfort at its finest. Then I pulled out a TV-dinner tray and picked a movie to watch. Tonight was a super hero kind of night. I decided eye-candy Thor would do nicely, so I popped it in and returned to the kitchen for my soup.

I'd just settled into the well-worn spot on my couch when I heard tires crunch the gravel outside. It was a week night, and I wasn't expecting anyone. A slight tremor of fear skittered somewhere in my stomach. Silly. I'd left all the bogeymen behind when I moved out here too. Hadn't had a single threat on my life in over two years.

Curiosity got the better of me, so I peeked out the window. I didn't recognize the car. But the man who stepped out of it, I'd know anywhere.

He walked up to the door with purpose and one of his annoyingly blank expressions. Typical. The double-knock echoed through the silence of the house. I debated ignoring it.

Not for long though. Old habits and all. I cracked the door and frowned.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

His gaze moved over me slowly, no doubt taking in some of the changes. His eyes came back to mine, and the corner of his mouth twitched. "Funny you should ask. I need a date."


	2. Chapter 2

_"_ _That's_ how you're going to play this? A _date_? You've had hours on a plane and two years beyond that to contemplate your opening, and you're going with a _date_?"

His perfect mouth began to move, but I slammed the door before he had a chance to say anything. I locked two of my four deadbolts, ran back to my bedroom, and locked that door as well.

" _Ha_ ," I thought to myself. " _Let's see you get through_ that _!_ "

My phone suddenly chirped in my pocket. Not a repeated chirp. Just a singular ping. A text.

I stewed for a good fifteen minutes before I finally caved and snuck a glance at my phone. One incoming text from an unknown caller. Clever. Must have figured out I'd blocked his other number.

"Babe," was all it said.

Typical. Too bad the old tricks weren't going to work this time.

I held out for another forty-five minutes before I unlocked my bedroom door and returned to the living room. Thankfully it was unoccupied because I really wanted to eat my soup. I glanced at the bowl resting on the coffee table and frowned. My dinner was cold. Fantastic.

I muttered some creative cursing before walking back out to the kitchen. Then my phone chirped again.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" it read.

"No!" I yelled, loud enough for him to hear.

 _Ping._ "You might reconsider."

"The hell I will!"

 _Ping._ "But I come bearing gifts."

By now I was standing right next to the front door, so I could yell my answers. Ineffectual and very mature, I know. But some people just invoke these kinds of responses. Honestly, it's not my fault.

"If the gift is you, you're an idiot!" I yelled.

 _Ping_. "The gift is edible."

"I don't eat sweets anymore!"

 _Ping._ "Liar."

"Unless you have Chris Hemsworth dipped in chocolate out there, you can forget it!"

 _Ping_. "Something better."

Ha! "No such thing exists!"

 _Ping_. "Not even something pineapple? And upside down?"

Damn. I hadn't had my mom's pineapple upside down cake in 196 days and 3 hours. Give or take a few minutes. She'd sent me one for my birthday last year, and I ate the whole thing in one sitting. No joke. It was the only part of my former life that still made me cry sometimes. Dessert withdrawals.

"You honestly expect me to believe you got a whole pineapple upside down cake through airport security? Give me a break."

 _Ping._ "Look out your window."

And there it was. In all its beautiful, perfectly-baked glory. Damn.

"The cake can stay. You need to leave."

 _Ping._ "It's my only bargaining chip."

My stomach suddenly roared to life, and my mouth began to water. Well played, Batman. Well played.

I unlocked the two deadbolts and cracked the door, my scowl firmly in place. "You never play fair."

His mouth twitched as he pocketed his phone. "Never said I would."

I held the door, and he walked inside. If anything about the house surprised him, he didn't show it. Instead he headed for the kitchen and deposited the cake on the counter. I followed close on his heels and debated how difficult it would be to wrangle him out of the house again.

It wasn't like he had a ton of height on me, but every inch of his frame was covered in well-sculpted muscle. A perfectly proportionate display of power and control. It was obvious he wasn't going anywhere unless he wanted to. Sucked to be me.

Ranger leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. "You got plates somewhere, or were you just going to dig in with your hands?"

I frowned. The hands bit had crossed my mind. But I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

I dug out a plate from the cupboard and cut a healthy slice from the round. Not quite a quarter, but it was close.

"Not a word," I growled before heading back to the living room. The slice was half gone before I even sat down.

Oh. My. Gosh.

"So good," I moaned. "Best. Cake."

I picked up every last crumb with my fork and licked the residual fruity goo off the plate. Ranger sat watching me from the other couch. His eyes were dilated, his expression amused.

"Glad you liked the cake."

I sat back and let the sugar rush settle in. Nothing like a good dose of sweet to temper a sour disposition. Speaking of sour…

"Alright, hotshot. You got what you wanted. I took the bait. Now I want to know what you're _really_ doing here."

Ranger leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "I already told you. I need a date." His eyes studied mine, assessing their reaction.

"Funny. I thought my position on dates was made pretty clear when I left."

His weight shifted. "As far as I'm concerned, your position is moot. You left without telling anybody."

"I left without telling you," I shot back.

It seemed like his eyes narrowed slightly at that, but he didn't say anything. His expression remained blank, strategically void of emotion. Except I'd known him long enough to know exactly what that meant. I'd struck a nerve.

"Thanks for the cake. You should go."

"Stephanie."

It was a plea. A guarded one, but a moment of vulnerability nonetheless. For a fraction of a second, I felt my resolve weaken. Until I remembered I'd been here before. Too many times.

Ranger was former Special Forces. A master strategist in every sense of the term. He knew exactly what strings to pull when and how hard. Something I couldn't fault him for. It was his survival strategy.

But I couldn't continue living at the end of one of his strings anymore. Even if it was the string connected to his heart.

"Please go," I said again, my voice already losing some of its conviction.

"It's just a job," he continued. "I need someone I can trust."

"It's never just a job with you." No truer words had ever been spoken.

They hit their mark, and Ranger gave a singular nod in resignation. He stood and took a few steps towards me as if debating something. Then he pulled a card out from his pocket and handed it to me.

"In case you change your mind."

Then just like that, he was gone.

I'd been mentally rehearsing for this moment every day for the last two years. Every damn day. I knew he wouldn't be able to leave it alone. To leave me alone.

Still, for as many times as I'd played out the different scenarios, rehearsed every one of my responses, nothing could've prepared me for the emotional upheaval that would follow. It took me all of ten seconds to realize the horrible truth: I was still in love with him. And it would probably take me another two years to deal with the aftermath of this sudden intrusion into my life.

I glanced at the cake still sitting on the counter and sighed. So much for savoring this one. Truth be told, there probably weren't enough pineapple upside down cakes this side of the Mississippi to provide the kind of sugar therapy I was going to need. Thanks a lot, Ranger.


	3. Chapter 3

"Oh my gosh!" Kristine exclaimed when I walked into work the next day. "Are you hung over?"

"I don't know. Can excessive sugar give you a hangover?" After consuming the entire pineapple upside down cake last night along with a half pint ice cream chaser this morning, I felt like a slug drowning in its own ooze.

"I didn't think so, but you, my dear, present some strong evidence suggesting otherwise."

Awesome. "Thanks."

I drug my sorry carcass toward the offices behind the main desk and unlocked my door. Some loose papers fluttered near my computer. The ominous red light was flashing on my phone.

Coffee. I needed some serious caffeine infusion before I could even think about dealing with any of this. And maybe a margarita. But that was probably going to have to wait until after working hours.

"Hey Kris," I called. "How fresh is the coffee out front?"

"I think Bridgette made a new batch about half an hour ago."

Good enough.

I walked out and grabbed one of the disposable cups from the welcome counter. Then I dumped in a cocoa packet and some creamer, and pressed the lever on the coffee dispenser a few times. Voila! Café la cheapo mocha.

Still not feeling entirely ready to deal with any actual work, I decided to sip my coffee and hang out at the desk with Kristine. The girl could cure almost any bad mood. She was like sunshine in human form. One of those bright and bubbly personalities with a sassy pixie cut and a witty tongue. The guests loved her.

"How's it going this morning?" I asked.

"Slow. The business crew already checked out, and there weren't many one-nighters."

"So, the usual?"

She shrugged. "Yeah. The usual."

I started checking the drawers to make sure all the forms were stocked and everything was where it should be. The night crew must've been bored. The minutia had already been taken care of.

Kristine tapped my shoulder. "Looks like we have at least _one_ interesting guest." She handed me a sticky note from the night crew.

"Guest in 515 is HOT," it said. Hot was underlined three times.

I raised my eyebrows. "Have _you_ seen this guest?"

"I've only seen three suits and the mom with the kid in college. Nobody I'd really consider hot per se."

My stomach lurched. I was getting a bad feeling about all of this. "Did he check in last night?"

Kristine pulled up the room on the computer. "Yep."

Oh no.

"Looks like Mr. Hottie's name is Marc Pardo."

Of course it was. What were the odds that a Marc Pardo-one of Ranger's known aliases-would check in the same night Ranger just so happened to show up in town?

Kristine glanced back at me. "Gee, Steph. You don't look so good."

"Oh? Must be all that sugar again." I walked like a dazed zombie back to my office and shut the door. Then I spent the next hour mindlessly clicking through things on my computer. Good grief! Why me?

It was one thing for Ranger to show up at my house last night. It was quite another for him to bombard me at work. At work! A place I _had_ to be nice to him because I worked in hospitality. This was beyond unacceptable. This was…

"Hey Steph," Kristine called from the desk. "I have a guest up here interested in booking some conference rooms."

"I'm on a call," I lied.

"He wants to use all of them. For an entire weekend."

I rubbed my temples. "Go ahead and jot down his info then. I'll get back with him later."

Silence. Hopefully it meant Kristine was taking care of things. Then my door opened a crack.

"Uh, sorry Steph, but he said he wants to set it up with you. Said he didn't mind waiting." Kristine glanced at my phone. "Were you really just on a call?"

I blew out a sigh. "Let me guess, he's the guy from 515, right?"

"You know, I forgot to ask. But he's definitely pretty high up on the hot scale."

"Latino guy with silky hair and rippling pectorals?"

"Check. Check. Mmmm…double check." A lightbulb clicked on and Kristine eyed me suspiciously. "Wait, do you _know_ this guy?"

I slumped in my chair. "Wish I didn't." I reluctantly got up and trudged my way out to the front desk.

Ranger flashed me one of his megawatt smiles, and I heard Kristine suddenly slam into the doorway.

"Whoa. Clumsy me. Sorry about that." Her cheeks flushed as she pretended to organize some paperwork.

I shook my head. "Pardo, huh?"

Ranger shrugged. "The name had more points accrued with this particular hotel chain."

"Well gosh, that's a shame. I'm afraid we've had this little glitch in our system lately." My eyes narrowed. "The room you've been staying in isn't available anymore."

"Oh?"

"Not to worry. I can give you a full refund on the additional nights you booked. _And_ I'll even call another hotel about a different room."

"Or I could just _change_ rooms," he offered.

"Sorry. No can do." I pretended to pull up our reservation program. "Just as I thought. We're booked solid."

Ranger pulled out his phone and looked up the hotel website. "That's funny. It says here that you have several rooms available."

"Website glitch."

"A website glitch? Or a pissed Stephanie glitch?"

My blood pressure moved dangerously near the red zone. "Watch it, or you really will get to see the pissed Stephanie glitch. And you and I both know it won't be pretty."

Ranger did one of his almost sighs. "Let's just leave the room situation as is then."

"Tempting. But there's just no way you can stay here. Ever. So how about you go hop back on that fancy jet of yours and head back to Jersey. There's absolutely no point in you being here. Nada. Zip. Zilch."

It was one of the many speeches I'd rehearsed before. Direct and to the point. Too bad I could tell by the way Ranger was looking at me that he wasn't buying it.

He turned to Kristine. "Is she always like this?"

The traitor giggled. And not just a quick that-was-funny kind of giggle either. She did the whole school-girl-with-a-stupid-crush giggle. Ugh!

"Don't you bring her into this," I snapped. "She's just an innocent bystander. She has no idea what's really going on here."

Ranger leaned closer like he had a secret. "What's really going on here?" he whispered.

"You're manipulating things like you always do!"

He turned back to Kristine. "Do you know what she's talking about?"

More giggles. Ranger didn't even try to control the grin. He was obviously enjoying himself. At my expense.

"You two have fun," I huffed as I turned on my heel. "I have work to do."

"But what about the conference rooms I still need to book?" Ranger asked innocently.

"They're _not_ available!"

I slammed my office door and reached for the closest projectile. Handfuls of pencils and pens exploded against the wall followed by their mesh holder. Those conference rooms were going to stay unavailable. Indefinitely. I'd buy them out myself if I had to. And as for the guest who wanted them? He'd be checked out by the end of the day. I'd make sure of it.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Okay, so I'm pretty sure the "security feature" mentioned in this chapter doesn't actually exist. But it should. I worked for a time as a night auditor at a hotel, and I was the only employee there for six hours. Nothing ever happened, but there were definitely some hotel guests that made me more than a little uncomfortable. That mixed with an overactive imagination and marathons of shows like Cold Case and Law and Order: SVU made for a very exciting job. Random FYI. Now back to the story._

I camped out in my office for as long as I could, but by 11:00 I needed to start setting up for a luncheon. I poked my head out from my office bunker and scanned the lobby. Thankfully it was empty. Apparently annoying the hell out of me was not on Ranger's itinerary for the entire day. Hallelujah for small miracles.

"Hey," Kristine called to me as I wheeled my cart of water bottles, pens, and notepads toward the conference rooms. "Just because I'm in the middle of some reservation stuff right now doesn't mean you're off the hook, you know. You owe me some serious 4-1-1."

I gave her one of my best eye rolls. "How about I pull rank and you just forget what you saw?"

She laughed. "Uh huh. Like _that's_ gonna happen. The tension was so thick between you two that I didn't just need a knife, I needed a freaking chainsaw to cut it."

"Quit being so dramatic. There wasn't any tension. He was just being obnoxious."

"Obnoxious, huh?" She grinned. "Denial only further confirms the possibility of something serious between you two."

Yeah. Something seriously annoying.

Fine. If Kristine wanted juicy tidbits, I'd throw her a bone. "I used to work for him, okay?" Definitely not a lie. But not exactly the whole truth either.

"You _worked_ for him? Is that some kind of east coast euphemism or something?"

I rolled my eyes again. "Cut and dry, actually. He's listed on my resume."

Kristine raised an eyebrow.

"Well, not Marc Pardo actually. His real name is Carlos Manoso. You can ask Debbie for a copy of my resume if you want." I sighed and glanced up at the clock in the entry way. "Listen, I've got a conference room to set up. We'll have to continue this conversation later."

I disappeared down the hall and tried to distract myself with the job at hand. This was all just business as usual. The set-up and take-down. The pleasantries. I could do this. Who cares that my life was just knocked off its axis? Just a little nuance. No big deal.

I brought in some extra chairs and arranged them around the long table. The catering crew was scheduled to arrive at noon, so I called to reconfirm ETA and the progress on the order. I added the company name to the welcome sign placard outside the door and started laying out the notepads and pens.

Then I felt it. That all too familiar change in air pressure along with the tingle at the base of my neck.

"Guests aren't allowed in the conference rooms," I said without bothering to turn around.

A chair creaked at the other end of the table. "What if the guest is attending the meeting?"

"Then you're early and need to wait outside until the room is set up." I tried to ignore Ranger as I walked past him to grab some water bottles. He stood, grabbed a few, and helped set them out on the table.

"That isn't necessary. I'm quite capable of taking care of everything myself."

Ranger took a seat again and popped the cap on one of the bottles. "So I hear."

I glared at him as he took a sip. "Those were for the meeting. Now my numbers will be off."

He shrugged. "Bill it to my room."

"Water's complimentary with the suites," I grumbled.

His mouth twitched. "No harm done then."

I gave him an irritated sigh before heading back to the coolers to grab a replacement water. When I returned, Ranger was still lounging in the chair. His mouth twitched again when I slammed the replacement water bottle on the table.

"I've got a job to do, and you're in my way. Do I need to call security to make you leave?"

"Babe, I _am_ security." He glanced at the clock on the wall. "Besides, the meeting starts in like twenty minutes anyway. The only one who's going to have a problem with me being here is you."

I narrowed my eyes. Fine. If he wanted to play hardball, I'd play hardball.

"You're right," I sighed, rubbing my forehead. "It's just you showing up last night? It's been really hard on me." I came and sat in the chair next to him. "You see these?" I asked pointing to the bags under my eyes. "I was up half the night thinking about you. About…us."

I chewed on my lip a little before slowly moving my toe to caress the side of his calf. "I got all worked up, and had a really hard time taking care of…my problem."

The reaction, although classically subtle, was unmistakable. Ranger's eyes darkened. His jaw clenched. His body strained. He was working hard to stay in control.

Perfect.

"I've got a few minutes before catering's supposed to be here," I added seductively. "And I'm still pretty keyed up. Got any ideas on how to take some of the edge off?"

Faster than you could say "Batman," Ranger stood, grabbed my wrist, and started dragging me down the hall.

"Where are we going?" I squeaked. As if I didn't know.

"My room."

That was my guess. Either that, or the storage closet.

I stopped. "But that's all the way up on the fifth floor."

He turned and pressed me against the wall, his breath warm against my neck. "Better that than right here in the hallway."

I gave him a coy half-grin before pulling the master set of keys out of my pocket. I dangled them enticingly in the air. "I've got a better idea."

Next thing I knew, we were stopped at the first available room. We both scanned the hallway before I unlocked the door and let us inside.

His mouth was on mine instantly. Although I'd been mentally preparing myself for the assault, it still took me by surprise. The kisses were scalding. And desperate. The sheer electricity from it all immediately short-circuiting my brain.

No worries. I still had my instincts. Well, half of them anyway. The other half were already holding up their white flags in surrender. When I pulled back to catch my breath, I took my opportunity.

"Can you go shut the curtains? I…uh…need to use the bathroom real quick."

He headed toward the window. But instead of going to the bathroom, I slipped out the door. Then I activated our handy little security feature.

In an effort to promote safety in the work place, our hotel had upgraded our room locks a few years ago. If an employee felt threatened by a guest or even a random stranger, all you had to do was get them into a room and use the handy little reverse lock feature once you were safely outside. It kept the person contained until security or the police could be notified.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when the door handle twitched. If that lock didn't hold, I was so screwed.

"That was low, babe," Ranger said from the other side of the door.

I blew out a sigh of relief. "You can come out when you're ready to behave. No more of this harassing me while I'm trying to work business."

Silence for a beat, then, "I might be able to manage that."

"Says the man who just had his tongue shoved halfway down my throat!"

I could feel his smile as he said it. "Opportunist, babe."

My eyes rolled involuntarily. "Cut the babe. I'm the events coordinator for this hotel. You can call me Ms. Plum. But I'd _prefer_ you didn't call me anything and just got the hell out of here."

"You're still sounding a little keyed up there, _Ms. Plum_. I bet I've got something that can help with that."

I kicked the door. "You're impossible!"

I marched my way back up to the front desk just in time to watch the catering crew come through the main doors. Perfect. While they unloaded and brought everything in, I stopped to have a little chat with Kristine.

"There's a guest secured in room 129," I said.

Kristine raised an eyebrow. "Did you notify Jason that there was a problem?"

"It's Mr. Pardo. He just needed some time to think some things over in a quiet space. Don't let him out until I say, ok?"

Kristine shook her head. "Oh man. Just know you owe me a drink and a session of spilling your guts later," she called after me.

"Whatever."

I finished organizing the lunch spread and politely welcomed the early birds to the meeting. Just as I was heading back to my office to do a quick check on my emails, I came to an abrupt halt. Ranger was leaning up against the front desk chatting with Kristine.

"You let him out?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"No need, _Ms. Plum_ ," Ranger grinned. "I let myself out."

"Of course you did."

"You know," he continued, "I could have a few guys from my security company come and take a look at those locks. They didn't seem to be the highest quality."

"Says the man who unlocks doors with his brain," I muttered.

"Pardon?"

"Sure," I replied casually.

"Sure?"

"You can bring some of your security guys over. On one condition."

Ranger crossed his arms over his chest. "Lay it on me."

"Send anyone you want just as long as _you_ promise never to set foot in this hotel again."

He stared at me before his eyes softened a little. "Wish I could, but I've got this project I'm working on, and it's something I really need to see through to the end. I'm sure you understand."

Oh, I understood alright. The "project" probably fell under the heading of "Ruining Stephanie's Life." Part two.

As I walked back to my office, I decided that maybe it was time to reevaluate my Ranger strategy. The quick and easy rejection method obviously wasn't working out very well. No worries. I was a passionate and stubborn person. Surely, I could hold up against a longer rejection process. I mean, it's not like he was going to hang around indefinitely. He had a life and a company to run back in Jersey.

I took a deep, cleansing breath and spritzed myself with some imaginary Ranger repellant. There. Sufficiently protected. At least that's what I'd keep telling myself. Even though I was already having trouble forgetting the kissing from earlier. Crap. I had a feeling today was going to be a very long day.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Here you go, Patsy. The conversation you requested. You seem to have read my mind ;) It may not be as detailed as some of you would like, but there are more details to come later on in the story. So don't panic. Happy reading everybody!_

"So…what's the story with your Latin lover?" Kristine asked as we waited for our drinks later that evening.

"He's Cuban. And I don't really have much to say about it."

She shook her head. "So the fact that he looks like he could devour you whole is just some weird coincidence?"

I shook my head. "It's just his style. He's a hunter."

"And what, he's hunting you?"

I sighed. "Maybe. In a matter of speaking."

Honestly, it was a gross understatement. Judging by our recent interactions, Ranger wasn't just hunting me. He was circling in for the kill. Just like he'd always done. When he was training me, loaning me cars, giving me jobs. Sure, my safety was his top priority. He would always be there to protect me from everything and everybody. Except unfortunately himself.

"We've got chemistry," I admitted.

"I'll say."

"But he's not available."

Kristine's eyes widened in surprise. "No way! He's _married_?"

"Divorced. It was a mistake a long time ago, but that's not what I mean. He's emotionally unavailable. As in, he doesn't do relationships."

Our drinks finally arrived, and I dove into my giant strawberry margarita with reckless abandon. Thank goodness for alcohol. I needed a break from reality.

Kristine sipped at her mojito as she considered what I'd said. "Isn't that kind of a copout? The whole 'I don't do relationships' thing?"

The alcohol took a moment to settle, but once it did, I felt my whole body relax. So what if it made my brain a little fuzzy too? A little fuzz was probably good for you.

"You and my former grief counselor seem to share some similar thoughts."

"Wait," Kristine interrupted. "Why did you need to see a grief counselor? And how have we not talked about any of this before? I've known you for over a year now."

I sighed. "I guess I just wanted to leave the past in the past. Coming out here was like a fresh start, you know? New job, new friends, new opportunities. I didn't want any of it tainted."

"But sweetie, that doesn't mean you can't ever talk about it. Talking with friends is like free therapy."

I raised my glass. "Thanks Kris. Here's to that much needed free therapy."

She sat back in her chair. "So why'd you need to see a grief counselor?"

I blew out a weary sigh. "A good friend of mine passed away unexpectedly. And thanks to my long-standing proclivity for denial, I pretended everything was fine. For a while.

"Except I couldn't shake that numb feeling that settled in. It was so bad that I sprained my arm and couldn't figure out why I couldn't move it for like a week. Thankfully, a friend of mine with a medical background caught me holding it funny. He checked me in at the ER to ensure I got it taken care of. Then I got to talking with one of the nurses at the hospital. She gave me the information for the grief counselor. Said it might help."

Kristine frowned. "Sorry about your friend."

I felt the tears try to surface and promptly forced them back. "I am too."

"Okay, so you have the loss of your friend, and then you start seeing someone to help you cope. How exactly does our hotel friend fit into all of this?"

"Is it weird that I don't even know how to answer that?"

Kristine made a face. "Umm…yeah."

I shifted my weight and tried to find a more comfortable spot on the chair. "He started out as nobody. Well, not _nobody_. We worked together off and on for a while. I was new to the job and he was enlisted to help show me the ropes. We joked that we had this whole Henry Higgins and Eliza Doolittle thing going on."

"As in My Fair Lady?"

"His words, not mine."

Kristine laughed. "So classic case of student falling for teacher, right?"

"Yeah, kind of. Maybe. I don't know. He was always needling me and giving me a bad time. Especially early on. Not really in a belittling way, mind you. More in a you-have-no-business-doing-this kind of way. Which honestly, I didn't.

"But then I started improving, and all those jabs became more like shameless flirting. Which I have to admit, was kind of fun. And then it morphed into this game of who could top who. There was this weird thrill in seeing how far it would go. All the kissing and innuendo. But I always assumed that's where it would end. It was safe because it was all just some silly game."

"But it really wasn't," Kristine added.

I shook my head. "By the time I realized that, I was so far down the rabbit hole, I didn't even know what to do."

"So, then what? You started seeing each other?"

"No." I paused. "And it gets worse too. There was this other guy."

" _What?_ " Kristine squeaked.

"He and I were kind of like the couple everyone expected. We grew up together and had this crazy attraction thing going on. Like magnets or something. And there was some genuine love mixed in there too. The kind of thing where if he was ever in trouble or needed me, I'd drop whatever I was doing to go and help.

"But he and I were rarely on the same page. It may have been work schedules or life goals. Maybe maturity levels. Or maybe it was just the fact that we weren't right for each other. Who knows?

"Regardless, we dated off and on for years. And looking back, I think it only intensified all that stuff with Carlos. It was kind of like an affair, but one I justified by drawing all these imaginary lines that I kept telling myself not to cross. We'd flirt, kiss, whatever. But I never saw it as _cheating_ cheating because he didn't do relationships, and I wasn't doing all that emotional stuff with him. Or so I thought."

Kristine's mouth was hanging open. "Damn, girl. That's like drama straight out of a book series."

"Isn't it awful?"

"So what happened next? You cut the other guy loose?"

"Kind of. It felt like we'd done the whole back and forth thing for forever. Then one time when we were taking a break, we just never got back together. I have to admit, it hurt for a while. Knowing he was a genuinely good guy and all."

"Yeah, that sucks. Good guys are hard to find."

"But honestly? It was almost a relief. I thought maybe if the other guy was out of the picture, all the games could finally stop. Because I already knew something was different with Carlos. Something that went deeper than the attraction between us."

"So, you were in love with him?"

I shrugged. "I always thought I was."

"So…you weren't in love with him."

"Everything was just so confusing and complicated back then. Until I had a chance to talk with this grief counselor. We talked about everything. Even my failed marriage. Did I ever mention that I was married before?"

"No."

I polished off my margarita. "It was a huge mistake, and he was a real piece of work. Thought I'd get over everything by hating him and pretending he did me a favor by cheating on me. But you know what? That bastard left a scar anyway. A jagged, nasty thing disguised as a papercut. He singlehandedly broke the trust I had in people. Especially myself. I mean it wasn't that far of a stretch to think that if I could screw up something as big as a marriage, I could screw up anything."

Kristine reached for my hand. "Steph."

"But then I met Carlos. And Kris, something about him was so completely different. He made me feel legitimately safe whenever I was with him. Safe from everything. We shared this atmosphere of complete trust, which oddly enough allowed me to start trusting myself again.

"The whole trust thing is kind of weird though because sometimes it looks and feels an awful lot like love. I knew all along that he had his limitations. He'd told me countless times that he didn't do relationships. That the price was too high. But did that stop me from getting sucked right in? Oh no."

"Maybe he changed his mind," Kristine interrupted. "Did he say what he's doing in town?"

I made a disgusted sound. "There's some job he wants me to help with."

Kristine thought for a moment. "The implications sound pretty significant to me. A guy doesn't just fly halfway across the country for help. Does he?"

I laughed. "On some level you might be right. But I'll bet he just wants to spy on me. Especially since ensuring my safety has always kind of been his thing. And there probably is a job too. He's done this whole recruiting process before."

Kristine sighed. "Okay, say you're right. Why be so hostile towards him then? Why not just do the job and be done with it?"

"Self-preservation mostly. He's my kryptonite, Kris. Being hostile is easier than being in pain."

She thought about that and nodded. "I guess I can understand that."

"I know I'm being a big, fat chicken, but I just can't risk losing all the progress I've made lately. I feel good here, you know? The hotel's really been a nice change of pace for me. And the people here are nice. In fact, just the other day I was late paying for my parking meter, and some kind-hearted stranger went and gave me an extra fifteen minutes. Just because. Who does that?"

Kristine shrugged.

"You wanna know the truth, Kris? The real truth?"

She gave me an eager nod.

"I really do love the guy. Deep down. But I think with all my baggage I just got confused. Now that I've been away from everything for a while, I think I can finally see things how they really were. One-sided. I was drawn to him because he gave me something I didn't even know I needed at the time."

"Really good sex?" Kristine blurted before erupting into a fit of giggles.

"No," I grumbled. "He gave me the reason I needed to trust again."

And maybe some really good sex too. But that wasn't as important as the trust thing. At least in theory.


	6. Chapter 6

Considering my recent traffic violation, I decided to play it safe after my night out and call a cab. Kristine gave me a big hug and said she was available for free therapy whenever I needed it. Then it was just me.

I waited outside the restaurant in my pleasant post-alcohol daze, admiring the surrounding shops and scenery. Southern Idaho felt very chill. People were always walking the streets at a leisurely pace, smiling and chatting with each other. Cars stopping without the screech of brakes while their engines idled quietly in the background.

To be honest, some days I missed the noise. The distant crunch of metal on metal or a horn blaring nearby. Not to mention all the yelling and hand gestures. Jersey sounds weren't peaceful. And they weren't pleasant. But they definitely were home.

A cab pulled up to the curb, and I slid into the back seat.

"Where to?" the driver asked gruffly.

"It's a ways out. I live in Caldwell."

I gave him my address, and we hopped on the freeway. The outlines of the foothills and open fields blurred together against the darkening sky. Deep blues and grays and browns. Funny how just a little alcohol could turn even the most simple of backdrops into Van Gogh's Starry Night.

The driver turned onto an off ramp. By the time I realized we were taking the wrong exit, it was too late.

"I think you made a wrong turn," I said, glancing back over my shoulder. "And don't think for one minute I'll be paying for additional miles. This mistake's on you, buddy."

The driver didn't acknowledge my statement. He just kept driving. Twisting and turning down roads I didn't recognize. My heartrate kicked up a notch and a squishy feeling settled somewhere in my stomach. This didn't feel right.

"Stop the car!" I yelled. "I want out."

To my surprise, the car actually stopped. Along with my heart. I fumbled to open the door with clumsy fingers.

"You and I have something in common," the driver said, his voice low and frightening.

Fantastic. The first time I decide to take a cab in Idaho and I wind up a missing person.

"Doubt it," I grumbled as I continued to mess with the door handle. I must have been more buzzed than I thought. Opening a car door could not be this complicated.

"We both want to be left alone."

"Actually, I kind of like having company. Speaking of, I bet my roommate's out looking for me now. She was expecting me home over an hour ago."

The cabbie smiled back at me in the mirror. "You don't have a roommate, Ms. Plum. You don't even have a pet. Just a fake aquarium with fake fish that you turn on when your house feels too quiet."

My blood ran cold, and I swallowed hard.

"Nothing to worry about. I can keep a secret."

Yeah. That's what I was kind of afraid of. Secrets like where he'd hide my body after putting a bullet between my eyes.

"W-w-why come after me?" I stammered. Guess I needed a refresher course on the whole false bravado thing again.

"Leverage."

I really hated being leverage. It never turned out well.

"You and I have some ghosts from our pasts that seem to have resurfaced," he continued. "Get our mutual _friend_ to leave us alone, and you and I won't have any problems."

He clicked a remote in his hand, and the door suddenly unlocked. I tumbled from the car and watched as the tail lights disappeared into the darkness. Then I did a slow circle to try and regain my bearings. Unfortunately, nothing looked familiar. Surprise, surprise. Nothing ever looked familiar around here.

I pulled out my phone and frowned. No signal. Of course.

The old me would've promptly sat on the side of the road and started crying. The new me was a bit more resilient. At least most of the time. So I picked myself up by the bootstraps and started walking. There'd be a house sooner or later, and then I could call Kris. Too bad all I saw with my limited visibility were miles upon miles of empty fields. Something told me this was going to be a long walk.

I'd made my way past the first giant field when I heard a car approaching from behind. Considering my recent experience with the crazy cabbie, I wasn't all that thrilled about having to flag down a stranger. But I was even less thrilled to walk a marathon in the dark.

I turned and waved my arms frantically, squinting into the bright headlights. Good news. The car was already slowing down. Then I recognized it. It was the same car that had pulled in front of my house last night.

I rolled my eyes as Ranger got out. "Let me guess. You were in the neighborhood."

He shrugged. "I can work with that."

"Unless you were gearing up for a midnight cow-tipping, you're probably going to have to come up with a better excuse."

Ranger glanced around. "How about we chalk it up to luck and I take you home?"

Sounded good enough to me. I slid into the passenger seat as Ranger rounded back to the other side. As I clicked my seatbelt, a sudden wave of nostalgia washed over me. Had we been in a Porsche, it would have almost been like we'd travelled back in time.

"I met a friend of yours this evening," I said after we'd been driving a while. "Pretty sure he wants to be left alone."

The muscle in Ranger's jaw flexed. "I think you know I can't do that."

Oh, I knew alright.

Then I laughed. "Wanna know something hillarious? I've gone two whole years without being kidnapped, shot at, or blown up, and you're here all of twenty-four hours, and all that stuff starts right up again. That's weird, right?"

Ranger glanced over at me, his eyes doing a quick scan before settling on my leg. I followed his gaze until I noticed the rip in my dress pants. Must have happened when I tumbled out of the taxi.

"Did he hurt you?"

I made a disgusted sound in the back of my throat. "Like I'd let some asshole hurt me."

Ranger's mouth twitched. Probably remembering some assholes that wished they hadn't tangled with me. When it came to defending myself, I knew I wasn't the skilled expert that Ranger was. But what I lacked in skill, I made up for in scrappy moves and a deeply ingrained sense of self-preservation. They turned out to be a fairly lethal mix.

We continued our drive in silence for several more miles before I finally started recognizing the names of some of the back roads. "How do you always know where you're going?" I asked.

"Google Maps and GPS."

I rolled my eyes. "Have you even been to Idaho before?"

He gave a singular nod. "Once. But I was up north."

We turned on to my gravel drive, crunching the rocks as we meandered our way up to the house.

Ranger parked out front and shook his head. "For some reason, I never took you for the country girl type."

I stared at the silhouette of my house in the dark. "You make it sound like I have spurs on my boots and a lasso hanging in the kitchen. I just live off the beaten path a ways. It's not always the perfect fit, but the house was a steal, and I needed a change."

It was the understatement of the century.

We crossed the yard to the front door, and I took a moment to dig out my keys from my bag. By the time I found them, Ranger was already holding the door open for me.

I narrowed my eyes, and he shrugged. "Old habits."

He proceeded to do one of his classic walk-throughs, checking for monsters under the bed and that sort of thing, while I headed to the kitchen for a glass of wine. My nerves were still a little raw from the taxi ride. And Ranger was in my house. Again.

Eventually he came and joined me in the kitchen. "No bogeymen."

I did a lopsided smirk before offering him some of the wine. He accepted the glass and swirled it around a little before taking a sip.

"Not bad."

"It's local. A vineyard not far from here, actually. They do a wine festival every summer, and I went last year with Kristine."

Ranger leaned against the counter. "She seems nice."

I nodded. Then I frowned. "You did a background check on her, didn't you?"

"Just some basic stuff. She checks out."

My eyes narrowed, and he smiled. "Steph, I'm kidding."

"I knew that. I was just testing you."

"Did I pass?"

I thought for a moment. "The wine must be getting to me. I can't remember what we were talking about."

Ranger's mouth twitched. "You always were a lightweight." He grabbed the glasses and put them in the sink. "I should probably get going."

He made his way to the door, and I trailed along a step or two behind. "It's not super creepy that someone was probably in my house recently, right?"

He stopped. "Are you just babbling, or is that a question I should be taking seriously?"

"Your friend with the cab knew a few things I didn't feel all that comfortable with."

"Such as?"

"My fish tank is a fake."

"Babe."

"What? I wasn't ready to find Rex's replacement."

Ranger glanced around. "Want me to check the house again?"

"Actually, I was kind of wondering… I mean, don't go getting the wrong idea about any of this, but maybe you could…you know…stay. Just for security purposes," I added quickly.

"Here?"

I gave a dizzying eye roll. "No, out in the car port. Yes, here!"

He eyed me curiously. "Is that the alcohol or you talking?"

"Me! It's me!" My arms were starting to flap around like an angry chicken.

"All things considered, I just assumed I should clarify. Maybe even get it in writing."

I glared at him. "You know, I've changed my mind. I'll risk getting murdered in my sleep. Get out."

"Make me," he taunted with a haughty smirk.

My Jersey temper flared, and I charged like a stupid, raging bull. Except thanks to the alcohol, my depth perception was slightly off, and my feet moved slower than the rest of me. I tripped and sailed across the living room, nowhere near my intended target.

Thankfully, Ranger still possessed his unnatural cat-like reflexes. He caught me mid fall just a fraction of an inch before I crashed into the wall. His eyes held mine for a moment before they crinkled at the corners, and he started laughing. Heat flooded my cheeks from anger and embarrassment. I tried to push away, but he pulled me closer.

"It's not funny," I grumbled. Even though it kind of was.

"Babe."

"You can put me down now."

He didn't.

"Please? I have work tomorrow, and I really need to get to bed."

His arms relaxed as he helped me back into a standing position. My legs wobbled slightly. And I wasn't sure it had anything to do with my recent near-falling experience.

Ranger was still smiling when he took a step back. "Am I sanctioned to stay in the house, or are you going to make me sleep in my car?"

I rolled my eyes. "If you quit being an ass, you can stay in the guest room."

Then I turned and headed for my room, but something stopped me in the doorway. Maybe because of some lingering Burg hospitality. Maybe because I couldn't remember the last time I'd said it. "Ranger… Thanks."

He gave a subtle nod before disappearing down the hall.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Okay, okay. I give. Here's a few more chapters with some of those answers you all keep hounding me about. Although they're encrypted in the text, so read carefully._

I laid awake in bed for several excruciating hours. Probably in part because of the whole recent scary taxi experience. And the other part because there was an insanely attractive male sleeping just two doors down. One who, of course, hadn't lost one iota of his sex appeal over the two years we'd been apart. Here I thought I'd finally outgrown my crazy Hungarian hormone problems. Turns out I was just missing a very particular stimulant.

Great.

I tossed and turned, stared at the clock, played on my phone. All the usual tricks. I even considered going to the kitchen for a warm glass of milk except I was terrified that if I somehow crossed paths with Ranger, I would probably end up tearing his clothes off with my teeth.

Then I remembered Ranger didn't wear clothes to bed. Good grief! The mental imagery was so not helping here.

Another hour passed and I started playing some dangerous mind games. Like wondering how bad a quick round of mind-blowing sex could really be. I mean, my lady parts were probably long overdue for some non-mechanical attention anyway, right? And all those endorphins would definitely help me get to sleep faster. Given all the positives, I was starting to wonder if there were any real negatives.

Oh, wait. That's right. I was still in love with Ranger.

Deep down I guess I didn't want just one night of mind-blowing sex. I wanted years of it. And really, if I was completely honest, it wasn't about the sex at all. He'd offered that to me before. Several times, in fact. And I'd turned him down. I'd wanted more then.

I wanted more now.

He'd just have to leave. Well, tomorrow anyway. In the name of self-preservation and good mental health. That's all there was to it.

Tomorrow we'd have that dreaded conversation. The whole "reason why I'd left" thiing. Then he'd hop back on a plane, and everything would go back to normal. Hopefully. At least in theory.

I blew out a frustrated sigh, and buried my head under my pillow. The fabric and feathers were almost thick enough to mute the subtle sound of my door knob turning. Almost.

I froze and held my breath. Maybe it had just been my imagination. Actually, it was probably wishful thinking.

I poked my head out to find Ranger's shadowy silhouette leaned up against the wall, his dark eyes watching me.

"Couldn't sleep," he said.

Gee, what a coincidence.

"You can head back to the hotel if you want," I offered. "I'm sure I'll be fine."

He came a few steps closer to the bed. "Is that what you want?"

The way he asked made me tingle in all the right places. "What happens if I say no?"

In an instant, my covers were pulled away and Ranger was suddenly on top of me, his eyes dangerously dark and focused. "This," he said with a bruising kiss. I melted as his lips stoked my already simmering desire into a strong and healthy blaze. "And this," he added as he trailed kisses along my neck to the spot that always turned me into a mindless puddle of goo.

It wasn't long before I'd completely given over to all those crazy hormones again. My hands and fingers travelled everywhere, unleashing torrents of long forgotten sensations. I was frantic with want and desperate with need. Two years of buried feelings all rushing to the forefront like a freaking tsunami. I was a goner. I couldn't have held back even if I'd wanted to.

Ranger pulled away to look at me, the heat in his eyes smoldering behind the intense pools of black. "I've waited over two years for this," he said, gently brushing his hand against my cheek. "We're going to take this very, _very_ slowly."

Okay. I could do slow.

Maybe.

He tucked a few loose strands of hair behind my ear before his lips found mine again. His hands travelled the length of my body, stopping to tease and torture me in some very strategic places. A hand massaging my breast. One tangled in my hair. One tracing dangerous lines along my inner thigh. And one groping my backside.

Wait.

I tried to do some quick mental math. Hair, boobs, thigh, butt. Interesting. That seemed a lot like four.

I pulled away. "Just how many hands do you have?" I asked with a giggle.

Ranger grinned and sat up to reveal four arms protruding from his perfectly chiseled torso. Oh, for the love of Pete! I was so dreaming all of this!

Oh well. I decided to let alien Ranger finish what he'd started. Because even on a subconscious level, I knew that a four-armed alien Ranger was better than no Ranger at all. In fact, he may have been even better.

###

The next morning, I woke to the smell of fresh coffee filling my room. A mug was waiting on my nightstand, the steam still swirling in faint wisps at the top. I stretched and sat up before taking a sip. Creamy with a hint of sweet. Just the way I liked it.

He'd remembered.

I thunked my hand against my forehead. Of course he remembered. This was Ricardo Carlos freaking Manoso we were talking about. The man who forgets nothing. I'll bet he even remembered what I ordered at the diner the day we first met. The thought flooded me with nostalgia. Nostalgia with a hint of regret.

We still needed to have that talk. And I knew where it was destined to go. Somehow I needed to excise Ranger from my life before it was too late. Before I screwed up my life in a major way.

I'd already let him go once. Surely I could do it again. Hopefully. And if he really loved me, even just as a friend, he'd let me.

A quiet knock on my door jarred me from my thoughts. From the looks of it, Ranger was already showered, dressed, and ready for the day. Typical. I was mildly relieved to see the standard two arms protruding from his muscular torso.

"I need to head back to the hotel soon," he said. "Just got a call about some Intel that needs some further attention." He paused for a moment. "How are you feeling about that date I asked you about?"

I blew out a sigh. "I'm still not sure it's a good idea."

"Listen, if this is about the situation at the hotel yesterday…"

"No, it's not that. I just don't do dates anymore. In fact, I don't do any of it. My job is working as an events coordinator at a hotel. No side jobs. No guns. I don't even carry pepper spray anymore."

Ranger gave a subtle nod as if he understood that. "What if I'm not asking as the owner of a security company? What if I'm asking as a friend?"

I frowned. "That's something we should probably discuss too."

"The company or our friendship?"

I struggled to find the right wording, but nothing seemed appropriate. "More like the way things have to be."

Ranger did an almost-frown. "I'm afraid I don't follow."

"Listen, if you need to get back to the hotel, maybe we can find some time to talk about this later. You know, in detail."

He debated for a moment before glancing at his watch. "How about I take you to dinner tonight?"

"Yeah. I guess that could work. But it'll have to be later. I have an afternoon conference to take care of today."

"I can work with that. Call up to the room whenever you're ready."

I nodded. "Oh, and Ranger?"

He paused in the doorway.

"This isn't a real date, right?"

The corner of his mouth twitched, but he didn't answer.

Oh boy.


	8. Chapter 8

In between making some confirmation phone calls and setting up for the conference at the hotel, I tried to jot down some of my thoughts. It was something I'd picked up during my sessions with the grief counselor. Anything and everything could wind up on the blank paper, but once it was out of my head, I found it a little easier to sort through. Well, most of the time anyway.

Turns out there had been a lot to sort through when it came to Ranger. Fortunately, I'd had the better part of two years to get a head start on it. Now I just needed to organize everything into something coherent. Something straight forward. Something I could say without turning into a blubbering mess.

I crumpled up my twentieth sheet of paper and chucked it across the room to join the mountain of others surrounding the waste basket. This wasn't working. My mind was a mess. My heart, an emotional rollercoaster. I'd left for a million reasons. Several of which were Ranger-related.

I'd left for some of the more obvious reasons too like the fact as a thirty-something I was still working a dead end job with no benefits, no retirement plan, and no growth potential. Not to mention an inconsistent paycheck. And I left for some not so obvious reasons, like the fact that my apartment suddenly felt small and claustrophobic. Especially after Rex, the wonder pet, finally took the trip to hamster heaven.

I left because too many people had opinions about how I should or shouldn't be living my life. And because Boston Creams and fried chicken would never taste the same again. Because the streets I drove every day just held too many memories. And because a good friend of mine left a notarized document saying that if anything ever happened, all of her worldly possessions would suddenly become mine. All of it. Every last skin-tight, poison-green tube top.

Turns out she'd also been collecting some cash under her mattress for a while. Bills of every size, shape, and color amounting to a sum that was a whole lot more than anyone probably expected. To the tune of $80,000 more, actually. I'd been so shocked when her lawyer contacted me that I nearly passed out.

The last time I'd seen those kinds of numbers was on a transaction receipt for one of Rangeman's corporate contracts. All I can say is thank goodness Ranger's security company offered a crazy, curly-haired brunette discount. Apparently knowing the boss on a personal level had its perks.

Speaking of Ranger…

I stared numbly at a fresh sheet of paper. Then it came to me. That crazy summarizing thought I'd been searching for.

I wrote down two very simple words. Direct. Honest. And when it boiled down to it, the very essence of why I'd left. Hopefully Ranger would understand. With the kind of life he'd lived and all the things he'd been through, how could he not?

I sighed and tried not to feel sad. Because if I was really being honest, it had been good to see him again. Because we'd been friends first and foremost, and nothing would probably ever change that.

But it was all that other stuff that I just couldn't seem to deal with. All the moments I'd thought a little too long about what it would've been like to be together. That someday he'd mentioned actually becoming a reality.

Turns out I'm not very good at waiting on someday. Especially for an indeterminate amount of time.

Although, I'm not so sure I could have done it. Even if Ranger had told me I'd only have to wait twenty years or something. Because twenty years is practically a lifetime. And I was tired of putting my life on hold.

My grief counseling had led me to this sudden epiphany. That I had spent a good portion of my life in some funky limbo. Like I was stuck in this real-world purgatory, unable to go anywhere because I was always just waiting.

Like how I'd been waiting my whole life to conform to the mold of the expectations surrounding me even when deep down I knew my wings were too big to fit within their confines. How I waited—not too long, fortunately—for Dickie to transform into the man of my dreams even though I knew from the way he looked at me that he never would. Or how I kept waiting on that big payday from the bonds office when I refused to learn or effectively use the tools of the trade. How I waited around for Morelli to buy that ring and pop the question when all along I was waiting for another man to fight for me and tell me I was making a big mistake.

How I waited for Ranger to change his mind about his solo quest for redemption. To hear him say he'd risk it all to take a chance on love. On us. That whatever we had was worth the gamble. Worth the price.

But he never did.

It was something I couldn't even fault him for. There had never been any false pretenses. He'd defined the boundaries early on, recognized and admitted the attraction, and drew the hard line at a relationship. Beyond anything physical anyway. I'd known for a long time that I was always welcome in his bed. Some days I really wish that could have been enough for me.

I guess in the end, I was just done waiting. So I left. Without giving anybody the chance to stop me or change my mind. Because if I stayed, my emotions would have eventually gotten the better of me. If I stayed, _he_ could have changed my mind.

It may have been juvenile on some level, leaving when he was out of town. But looking back, I don't regret it. Unless I hurt him. He has enough hurt in his life already. I would never intentionally add to it. Because deep down I really do love him.

A soft knock on my door made me jump. I quickly crumpled the paper and shoved it into my handbag.

Bill was waiting for me outside. "I think your conference is starting to wrap up. And it's not too busy up at the desk right now. Would you like some help with the take-down?"

I'm pretty sure Bill has a thing for me. But he's five years too young, a little shy, and I'm still off men. For now anyway. Maybe forever.

"You know, I really appreciate the offer, Bill. But I think I've got it. Things have been a little stressful lately, and the process is kind of therapeutic." I shrugged. "Better than paying a shrink, right?"

He gave a small half-smile. "I guess. Let me know if you change your mind though."

I glanced at the clock on my phone. Part of me was hoping that if I took long enough putting everything away from the conference, the dinner with Ranger might not actually happen. Because even though I'd found some suitable words to say, I still wasn't sure I'd be brave enough to say them.


	9. Chapter 9

The take-down hadn't lasted as long as I'd hoped. So now I was sitting in some fancy, overpriced restaurant in downtown Boise. Across from the one and only Ricardo Carlos Manoso.

At least, I was pretty sure it was him. He looked unusually relaxed in a casual button-up and dark wash jeans. Without his signature black attire, I had to keep doing a double-take.

"Is there a reason you're staring at me?" he asked as he unfolded his menu.

I cupped my ear and leaned forward. "You may have to talk a little louder. I can't quite hear you over the Twilight Zone music playing in my head."

He smiled. "It's just a shirt, babe."

"Is it? I mean, the last time you changed wardrobes on me, you were kind of ducking the police. Is there something important I should know?"

He shrugged. "Only if you've changed your mind about that date. Last time I checked, my name wasn't near the top of any most-wanted lists."

I rolled my eyes. " _Near_ the top. Good one."

The waiter suddenly appeared to take our order. Ranger humored my usual indecisiveness as I contemplated almost everything on the menu. Unfortunately, the waiter didn't seem quite as amused.

After some pointed looks and impatient throat-clears, I finally settled on the filet mignon. Mostly because you can't really go wrong with steak. Ranger went with the herb-crusted salmon. I guess underneath all that new clothing, he was still the same health nut I'd come to know and roll my eyes at.

The waiter left, and we were suddenly alone again. I fidgeted and squirmed in my seat trying to distract myself with anything but the actual reason we were there. It was like the time I broke my mom's favorite vase, and she called me in to her room to have me confess. We just stood there in silence for half an eternity; neither of us wanting to say the first word, neither of us willing to acknowledge the massive elephant in the room.

 _This_ elephant felt like the whole damn zoo in comparison.

"The red looks nice," Ranger offered.

He was taking pity on me. The man could sit in silence for hours, maybe days, and not be bothered.

"Red?"

"The highlights in your hair. They're subtle, but when the light catches them just right, they look…more noticeable."

"Uh, thanks."

He shifted his weight. "Listen, Steph, we've got some time, but you look like you're sweating bullets over there. Why don't you go ahead and say whatever you feel needs to be said?"

I twisted my napkin nervously in my lap. Took a drink of the water I secretly wished was vodka. Too bad this conversation needed to be a sober one.

"If I ask what you're really doing here, are you going to give me some vague bullshit answer?" I wasn't entirely sure where all the anger and frustration were coming from, but I guess this was one way to get the ball rolling.

Ranger took a casual sip of his water and leaned back in his chair. "As I said before, I need a date. Something of a more personal nature that requires a more…feminine touch. I could only think of one person suitable for the job."

"So, what? You decided to look me up and travel 3,000 miles to Idaho?"

His mouth twitched. "Didn't have to look you up." Of course he didn't. "I talked with your mom."

Right. The pineapple upside down cake. I fought back a laugh trying to imagine my mother and Ranger attempting to have a normal conversation. A part of me wished I could've been there to see it.

"And, so, what? I only get more details if agree to this…date?"

"Yes. Especially if your answer's a no. I don't want to involve you unnecessarily if you're not a willing participant."

A hint of something flashed behind his eyes. Sad maybe? Worry? It had been a while since I'd played "Read Ranger." However, the last time I'd seen this much emotion, his daughter had been involved. And as I seemed to recall, the situation hadn't been good.

"Is Julie ok?"

"She's fine. Well, you know, other than the occasional flare-ups of her cocky, teenaged bad attitude. Rachel seems to think it's all from my side. Can't say that I really blame her considering I wasn't exactly the poster child for those happy teenage years."

"So you're really here just to ask for my help?"

"And to see you."

There it was. The ambiguous statement I knew was coming. To _see_ me? What the hell did that even mean? Did he seriously just want visual confirmation that I was doing fine out here on my own? Or did he want to _see me_ see me? Like to get some of that pent up sexual energy out of his system. Was he here for closure? A discussion? A weekend of wild and dirty sex? _WHAT?_

"Do you do that on purpose, or is that really how your mind functions?"

He leaned forward slightly. "Again, not sure I follow."

"You said you came to see me, but why? I mean, I guess I get the whole job side of it, but I'm getting confused by everything else. You need to be more specific."

Ranger's mouth twitched. "I missed you."

My hands flew up in the air. "See? There you go again. That's just another one of those cleverly vague statements. It could mean like a million different things."

"What do you want it to mean?"

And of course that's when our server reappeared with the food. I was half-tempted to throw my plate across the room in frustration. Except for the fact my stomach had already reached unprecedented decibels, and the steak looked _exceptionally_ good.

"You're lucky I missed lunch," I grumbled.

We ate in silence, and another wave of nostalgia washed over me. There was a time when I was comfortable with the whole silence thing, but now it just felt like a muted countdown for a ticking time bomb. On a positive note, the steak practically melted in my mouth. It was so good, I was almost tempted to forget about everything else. Almost.

"Why Idaho?" Ranger asked suddenly.

I stared up at him. "What?"

"What made you settle in Idaho?" His look was one of genuine interest. Not just shooting the breeze.

"I guess at first I just started driving. After…everything, I had this sudden and overwhelming urge to get out. I needed to get away. Some place far. So my only goal at the time was to put as much distance between me and…well, everything else as possible.

"I drove for days. Eventually I wound up near Portland, but it wasn't long before I realized I couldn't afford life along the coast. So I backtracked a little and stopped here."

Ranger nodded in acknowledgement. "It's a unique area. Slower, but still with that whole urban feel." He paused. "I heard you took the firebird."

Tears stung my eyes, and I tried like crazy to blink them back. "Yeah. Unfortunately, that car and I had to part ways shortly after I got here. Some crazy yahoo rear-ended me when it snowed. Totaled it. I think Lula would have approved of the whole road trip though."

He nodded. "No doubt."

I focused intently on my plate as I took another bite. Then I chewed on it forever because I was having a hard time swallowing. Ranger cleared his throat.

"I should've been there." The statement, although somewhat hard to hear, felt oddly therapeutic.

"It's not your fault. Everything was so sudden and unexpected. Nobody could've known about her aneurism." A stray tear slid down my cheek, and I quickly wiped it away.

"Still, you shouldn't have had to go through that alone."

I shook my head as I continued to dab under my eyes. "I wasn't. I had my family close by. Not to mention the Rangemen."

"True." He paused. "But you didn't have me."

He was right. I didn't. But…

"Maybe I wasn't supposed to."

The silence that followed made my chest ache. Maybe because for once, I was acknowledging the truth behind that festering thought. And maybe because he didn't disagree.

"Listen, Steph, you really don't have to do any of this. I knew it was going to be a longshot anyway. It's just that you're the only one for this job, and time's running out. But I also know that you've made a life for yourself here. I have no business involving you in something from the past. Maybe it would be best just to spend the rest of this dinner catching up like old friends. Keep things simple. I can figure everything else out later."

"But what if I agree to do it?" I suddenly blurted.

The stare he gave me was intense. "Are we dealing in hypotheticals?"

A smart Stephanie probably would have. "No," I sighed. "I'm saying I'm in."

Ranger's eyes narrowed as he assessed my response. "Why the sudden change of heart?"

"You know me. I'd mostly made up my mind the night you showed up at my house anyway."

It was kind of a lie. I hadn't made up my mind that night at all. In fact, I hadn't made up my mind until a few seconds ago. Because of something he'd said. Or rather the implications of it. That our time together was quickly coming to an end, and I wasn't even remotely close to being ready for us to say goodbye.


	10. Chapter 10

To top off all my bad decisions for the evening, I decided to indulge in a slice of white chocolate raspberry cheesecake for dessert. My reasoning being something along the lines of congratulating myself for having at least _some_ will power when it came to Ranger. You know, because we weren't currently holed up in his hotel room testing out the durability of his mattress.

Of course, the night was still young.

Not to mention I'd just foolishly agreed to a job that involved a lot more quality time together. _And_ that slice of cheesecake wasn't nearly the size it should have been to combat all my returning hormone problems. I was so screwed.

Ranger drove me back to the hotel where my car was still parked from the night before.

"Want me to stay at the house again?" he asked as we pulled in to the lot.

I did, actually. Maybe not just for safety reasons either. But considering my recent alien Ranger fantasy and the fact I could already feel my sugar defenses wearing off, I decided it probably wasn't the best idea.

"I should be okay. It's not like I was given a deadline for when to get rid of you."

"Babe."

At this rate, I was probably never going to get rid of him. Not the best news for my new cabbie friend. Hell, who was I kidding? It wasn't the best news for me either. At least according to my brain. My body was having different ideas.

"If all else fails, I think I've got a baseball bat in my closet. I played softball for a few years in grade school, and although my batting average mostly sucked back then, I bet I could cause a lot more damage now. Especially with the right kind of target." Like the terrifying intruder kind.

Ranger's mouth twitched.

"What? My defense moves may not be as strategic as yours, but they've got a pretty good track record for getting the job done." Mostly.

Ranger's lips tightened in what I suspected was an attempt to hold back a laugh.

"Which time are you thinking of?" I asked, eyebrow raised.

He grinned. "All of them."

"I'm really not that funny, you know."

The smile vanished as quickly as it appeared. His eyes turned frighteningly serious as they dropped to my lips. Judging from past experiences, I had a pretty good idea what was coming next. Oh boy.

"I think we're kind of having a moment here," I breathed as he leaned closer.

"What kind of moment?"

The kind I'd been fantasizing about for the past two days.

His lips were just a whisper away from mine when I hesitated. "The kind that maybe we shouldn't be having."

Holy cow. Saved by the brain.

Ranger did one of his almost-sigh things before sitting back in his seat. I practically collapsed in relief.

"I'll be by to pick you up tomorrow morning," he said, focusing his attention out the windshield. "You should probably make arrangements to be away from work for a few days."

"Okay." I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't. Of course. I must have forgotten who I was dealing with here. "What about all the other details? Like the whole who, what, when, where, why, and how stuff?"

"We can discuss them more tomorrow."

"Right." I started fidgeting. "How about we discuss some ground rules then?"

Ranger eyed me curiously. "Ground rules?"

"Yeah. You know, like some safety precautions."

"Safety precautions." He thought for a moment. "I can loan you something if that little S & W's no longer in your cookie jar."

I did a mental eye roll. That wasn't the kind of safety precaution I had in mind.

"How about _you_ carry that stuff, and I'll just stick with you?"

His eyes sparked with mischief. "How close are we talking?'

"Not that close. In fact, maybe we should just eliminate the whole physical contact thing altogether. You know, to keep things simple."

Ranger's mouth twitched. "What if I need to push you out of the way from oncoming danger, Calamity Jane?"

"I'm glad you're finding all of this so amusing," I said, giving him a massive eye roll. "But I'm serious. I don't need things getting complicated." As if they weren't already. Jeez.

He gave me a look. More like _the_ look.

I filled my lungs with a generous boost of oxygen and tried to focus. "You know I'm not going back, right?"

"To your house?"

I threw my hands up in the air in frustration. "Would you cut the crap and listen to me? Like _really_ listen?"

"I'm always listening, babe."

Of course he was. Probably in a creepy, I'm-being-watched-by-the-government kind of way.

"I can't go back. And I won't. So if you're only here to bewitch me to the point of hopping on a plane and returning to my life back in Trenton, you may as well give it up now. It's never going to happen. Like ever."

Ranger sat and stared at me for several long, unbearable moments. His expression annoyingly unreadable. "Never thought that it would."

My jaw dropped. "So you're _not_ here to try and get me to go back with you?"

"No."

Something funny suddenly caught in my throat. Like a pill that was too hard to swallow.

"Oh."

A weighted silence filled the car as I stared at my hands. I really should've been relieved. This was exactly how I'd always wanted things to play out. No drama. No fighting. Just two friends coming to terms with a complicated past and moving forward.

It should have been easy. It wasn't.

"So I'll pick you up tomorrow then?"

"Oh. Right. Tomorrow." I gave my head a slight shake to snap out of my daze. "What should I pack?""

"Black's always good," Ranger smirked. "And I wouldn't say no to that little red dress of yours either. If you still have it, that is."

I frowned. "It may have wound up in a donation pile after I moved out here. There's no point in hanging on to things you don't use anymore, right?"

"Too bad. Maybe we can find a replacement."

Yeah. Or not.

I rolled my eyes as I slid out of the car. "See you tomorrow, Ranger."

"Buenas noches, babe. Dulces sueños."

Funny. Considering the current state of things, I had a feeling my dreams tonight were going to be anything but sweet.


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Can I just take a moment to say how cool it is that I have international readers? People that I'll probably never meet on the other side of the planet that share an interest in the misadventures of a lucky/unlucky bounty hunter. It's truly amazing to me that we all can be connected through a story. So thank you to all the readers, near and far, for being a part of the adventure._

I heard the gravel crunch out front and took one last look around the house. I was showered and dressed. Bag was packed. Dishes were clean. Garbage was emptied. I was all ready to go.

Except I really wasn't. I'd been up half the night trying to figure out why I'd agreed to all of this in the first place. Kept trying to analyze the crap out of everything like I always do. However, my crap analyzer must have been on the fritz. The only reason I could come up with after staring at my ceiling half the night was that I had this feeling it was something I just needed to do. The whole spidey sense thing again.

Yep, I was doing all of this based on a feeling. Like some Jedi being pulled along by the mystic powers of the Force. Except in my case, I was probably more like Anakin getting dragged over to the Dark Side. Especially since four-armed Ranger may have given an encore performance last night.

Crap. Have I mentioned that I'm totally screwed?

I stood for a long time in the doorway as Ranger stepped out of the car and gave me a funny look. "Are you just going to stand there, or were you planning on getting in the car sometime today?"

Ah, Ranger humor. Good times were definitely on the way.

I grabbed my bag and locked the door. It probably wasn't necessary considering I mostly had cows for neighbors, but I figured it couldn't hurt. Those cows all looked pretty shifty.

Ranger came and grabbed my duffel and tossed it in the back.

"You packed light," he said as he started the car.

"Since _someone_ wouldn't give me any details, I had to improvise. Taking a page from my dad's philosophy, I packed the basics and called it good. Thought you'd approve given your whole military background and all."

"Thoughtful." Ranger handed me a to-go coffee cup from one of the drink holders. "Here."

"Thanks, but I already had a cup with breakfast. And I doubt we want to be stopping every ten minutes for bathroom breaks."

"I'll chance it. You sound cranky."

I rolled my eyes, but took the cup anyway. He might have had a point.

"So what am I in for? Where are we going?"

Ranger glanced at his phone. "I think our best bet is to find the driver of the cab from the other night."

"And?" I encouraged him to continue.

"Then we'll have a chat."

"Are we talking a scary pants-wetting chat or something more casual?"

Ranger's mouth twitched. "Depends on how cooperative our person of interest is."

This was fun. Being on a need-to-know basis with Ranger was like getting details via snail mail across the Atlantic during the 1700's. At this rate, I was probably going to find out what we were _actually_ doing in about a month or two. Just in time to order a wig to replace all the hair I was going to yank out of my head.

"I could only get coverage for a week off work. You don't think this will last longer than that, do you?"

He shrugged. "If it does, you can come work for me until you find another job."

I pinched the bridge of my nose and blew out an irritated sigh. "I didn't agree to that. I like my job _here_. My house is here. I even have a few friends here. And I already told you, I'm not going back to Jersey."

Ranger made a face like maybe I was starting to annoy him. "I'll pay you to do computer stuff from home then."

"Don't," I snapped. "I hate it when you do that."

"Do what? Let you work from home?"

"Throw your damn money at me all the time! I don't need it. I've been taking care of myself just fine for the past two years."

"I know," he said after a long stretch of silence. "I was just trying to help."

"Throwing money at a problem is _not_ helping."

Ranger slammed on the brakes and gave the wheel a hard turn as he pulled off to the shoulder. He threw the gears in park, and turned so he was facing me. "First off, you've never been a problem."

I gave him the "yeah right" look. We both knew my middle name was trouble.

"Second, I don't care about the money. Never have. I do, however, care about you. If loaning you a car, hiring you for a job, or taking care of a mortgage payment makes your life a little easier, it's worth it. And third, I'm fully aware that you are doing fine on your own. I think everyone is. In fact, you should hear your mom talk about you, babe. I've never seen that woman so proud."

"Wait, what?" I honestly couldn't remember my mother ever being proud of my living situation.

"When I got your contact information, she and I had some time to talk. Filled me in on some things I missed while I was away." His mouth twitched a little. "She also made sure I knew that if I screwed anything up for you, she'd hunt me down and murder me in my sleep."

I laughed out loud. "She did not."

"Those may not have been her _exact_ words, but the implications were pretty clear."

I frowned. "Then what aren't you telling me? What are you really doing here?"

Ranger didn't say anything for so long that I almost forgot I'd asked a question. "There's only one Stephanie Plum, babe. And I need her." He shifted the car into gear and pulled back onto the road.

I wasn't sure what to make of his response. But my brain was starting to hurt, so I sat back in my seat and watched the world pass by out the window. It took me over an hour to realize that something was missing from our car ride. Something I probably should have noticed two days ago. The citrusy undertones of Ranger's signature scent weren't lingering in the air. I made a mental note to investigate that more later and sipped my coffee as our real adventure began.


	12. Chapter 12

"When do I get to find out where we're going?" I asked as we hopped on the freeway.

Ranger handed me a map and pointed to a circled destination not too far away. "Ever been up to McCall?"

I shook my head. "Not yet, but it's on my Idaho to-do list. I hear they have some kind of snow festival every year. Although I'm pretty sure Frosty's melted by now if you were hoping to get a selfie with him."

Ranger ignored my sarcasm. "I managed to find your cab from the other night. It was reported stolen a few days ago; authorities found it abandoned in a parking garage downtown. Thanks to a grainy security feed, I managed to get a partial plate on the next vehicle our cabbie hijacked. Hector worked some magic, and now we're heading toward its last reported location."

"McCall," I stated.

"Right. It's our starting point anyway."

"So what's this guy's deal with you? He called you a ghost from his past. Is he another buddy gone rogue from your Special Forces days?"

"I made a mistake."

"Wait, you? _You_ made the mistake?"

I don't think I'd ever known Ranger to make mistakes. At least not tactically speaking. If he did, they were usually fixed faster than the time necessary to process that the mistakes had been made in the first place. Maybe this was a mistake from his younger, more impulsive years. The time before I knew him.

"Yes. Several, actually. But this one's the reason we're doing all of this."

I adjusted my position. "Maybe you should reevaluate your strategy on this guy. It sounds like he just wants to be left alone. If it were me and there wasn't some major global threat involved, I think I'd just let it go. Give the guy a break and let him find some peace."

Ranger glanced over at me and seemed to consider my response. "Wish I could. But I already told you the stakes are pretty high on this one."

"A matter of life and death, huh?"

"That's one way to look at it."

"Is there another?"

He didn't answer. I wondered how bad the stakes had to be for Ranger to keep me completely in the dark on this one. The answers I came up with didn't sit very well.

We drove for a few hours through a series of winding roads that made my stomach climb into my throat.

"Maybe I won't be visiting McCall after all," I groaned. "Are the roads going to be like this the entire way?"

Ranger shrugged. "Maybe. Got any gum in your purse? The chewing should help with all the pressure changes, and the mint might calm your stomach."

I rummaged through my purse and pulled out a stick of gum. I popped it in my mouth before offering the pack to Ranger. He shook his head.

"Too much like nicotine gum."

From some offhanded remarks he'd made earlier in our relationship, I knew Ranger was no stranger to cigarettes. "How long did you smoke?"

"Longer than I should have."

I sighed at the cryptic response and decided to drop it. Ranger's life was a study of reading between the lines. He didn't offer many details, and when he did, they took days, sometimes weeks, to process. I figured for now my time would be better spent focusing on gum chewing and deep breathing. With any luck, the nausea would pass.

"I had my first cigarette when I was thirteen," Ranger continued after watching me slip deeper into a new shade of green. "From a pack I lifted from a gas station not far from my house. I'd stolen it to get a bully off my back, but he was pretty smart and offered me a place in his gang in exchange for the occasional use of my quick fingers. Even let me keep a cigarette."

"So, what? You joined up with him right then and there?"

The corners of Ranger's mouth dropped slightly into his version of a frown. "Let's just say I was tired of having my ass handed to me every day after school."

A part of me wanted to laugh. There was no way I could ever imagine Ranger having his ass handed to him. Even as a kid. Hell, most of the time, people took one look at him and hightailed it the other direction.

"Weren't quite the imposing force of nature we know and love today, huh?"

His mouth twitched. "Not quite."

"What made you quit?"

"Smoking?"

I nodded.

"Rachel said she didn't want Julie around the second-hand smoke. It was either quit or lose the opportunity to spend time with her. I chose to quit."

I glanced over at him, still trying to figure him out. "Was it hard?"

"Quitting? It was torture. The nicotine's not just addictive, it's calming. Given the nature of the assignments, most of the people I knew in the military smoked at some time or another. It helped with the whole decompression process."

"You must have found something better to replace it. You're one of the most chill people I know."

A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. Definitely amused. "Deep breathing and meditation mostly. Although in my later years, I found that talking helped too."

Yeah. Pretty sure talking with Ranger probably resembled meditation. Lots of silence.

"Or spending time with the right people."

His eyes held mine, and I felt a sudden rush of butterflies in my already-queasy stomach. It wasn't a good mix.

"Want me to pull over, babe? You're looking pretty green."

I didn't get a chance to answer. We came to a stop just seconds before I lost my breakfast over the guard rail. And maybe the dinner from last night too. Guess you really could go wrong with steak.

A warm hand rubbed my back as another gathered the hair away from my face. My knees buckled slightly as I tried to stand. Ranger caught me around the waist.

"How about we stay put for a while? Give you an opportunity to breathe in some fresh air."

"But what if we lose our guy?"

"I've got pretty good track record for rooting out missing persons."

Couldn't really argue with that.

I hobbled over to the car and collapsed in the passenger seat, my head against the headrest, my legs dangling out the door. Instead of going back to the driver's seat, Ranger squatted down in front of me.

"Want some water? I've got a few bottles in the back."

I nodded and tried not to hurl again at the realization that my mouth now tasted like a disturbing mixture of mint and vomit. It'd probably be a while before I enjoyed another stick of gum. On a positive note, this was all a pretty good deterrent for sneaky kisses and foreplay.

I was safe from my hormones. For now.


	13. Chapter 13

A short while after my unfortunate vomit episode, the roads quit all their winding spirally business and dropped us into a mystical land of towering trees and log cabins. McCall, Idaho. Population: 10. Just kidding. It was probably closer to a few thousand. But that may have been including the bears and moose.

"This is cute," I said. "Just the kind of place you'd expect to find some crazy nut job."

"Funny."

"No, really. I mean look at that guy over there." I pointed to an outdoorsy type coming out of a shop. "I'll bet you ten bucks he's hiding something in that beard. Drugs, weapons. It's bushy enough he could probably hide a whole quarter pounder with cheese in there."

I almost jumped out of my skin when Ranger suddenly pulled off to the side of the road. He hopped out of the car and made his way over to the man with the beard. Oh no. Me and my big mouth.

The men talked for a while. Probably mostly with head nods and grunts. Grizzly Adams looked over Ranger's shoulder at the car and laughed. Apparently I was amusing to the outdoorsy types too.

I gave an embarrassed little finger wave, and he laughed again. Then he reached under his long, scraggily beard and pulled out…wait for it…a kitten! As in the whole whiskery ball of fluff kind. The man was hiding a kitten in his beard. A kitten. In his beard. My mouth was hanging open for so long that I may have swallowed a few flies.

The guys shook hands, and Ranger walked back to the car. He angled into the driver's seat, and I bit my lip in an extreme effort not to laugh. He pulled out his money clip and handed me a twenty.

"It was only ten," I snickered.

"You got a bonus. The guy saw a vehicle matching the description of our cabbie's SUV. Said it was in the grocery store lot this morning. Congratulations, babe. Your lucky streak continues."

I shrugged. "It's a gift." Maybe a curse.

"Any other gifts I should know about? Clairvoyance? Telepathy?"

"Hey, you were the one always reading minds, not me. Although since you asked, I'm pretty sure I'm fluent in hamster. If there's ever a hamster witness to an unsolvable crime, I bet I could get all the juicy details."

Ranger's mouth twitched. "Careful what you wish for."

I smiled. This was fun. It had been a while since I'd had someone to talk to like this. Someone who knew how crazy I really was, but liked me in spite of it. Maybe even because of it.

"So what's the plan? Are we going to do the whole supermarket stakeout thing?"

Ranger raised an eyebrow. "Do you _want_ to do a supermarket stakeout?"

"Not really."

"Good. Because I wasn't planning on it. We're kind of short on time, so we're going to make use of your rare talents. Root this rat out of his hole. You up for socializing with the locals?"

I could probably handle that. "Does it involve lunch?"

"Babe."

Okay. I'll admit it was a little ironic that I was starving considering I'd tossed my cookies like thirty minutes ago. But I seriously have no control over the beast that is my stomach.

"What happened to _Ms. Plum_?" I teased.

"The chip on her shoulder finally fell off and now she's back to being babe."

"It's not wise to count your eggs before they've hatched. There might still be some chip residue lingering somewhere over here." I glanced at my shoulder and brushed it off a few times. "Nope. Guess it was just lint."

Ranger's rare smile broke through. "Where did you want to go for lunch?"

"Tell you what, I'll close my eyes and think of somewhere really, really hard, and you see if you can read my mind."

I closed my eyes while Ranger turned the car around and backtracked a couple blocks. We parked in front of a restaurant that looked more like a homey mansion.

"How'd I do?"

"Hang on. I'll think my answer." I squeezed my eyes shut again.

"Something tells me I'll hear your answer once we go in and order."

I sighed. "Probably. But this was too easy to verify your mind-reading skills. I mean, seriously, who wouldn't have guessed I'd go with a place called The Pancake House?"

"True. Although I think _I_ would've gone with that sandwich shop across the way."

I tried to remember seeing a sandwich shop on our way in. Nothing particular came to mind. Probably too distracted by The Pancake House. "No one's stopping you if you'd rather eat someplace else."

"Like I'd miss an opportunity to watch you gorge yourself on pancakes."

I grabbed a hair elastic out of my purse and pulled my curls into a ponytail. "I was leaning more toward an omelet, actually."

"Liar."

"Okay. But it's because you can't not go with pancakes at a place called The Pancake House. That'd be like ordering a salad at a burger joint."

Ranger raised an eyebrow.

"Ugh. That is just wrong on so many levels. It's your one true character flaw. You know that, right?"

Ranger shrugged. "Pretty sure I have more than one."

I ran through a quick mental checklist: perfect hair, megawatt smile, flawlessly edible skin, rock-hard body. Whew! Was it getting hot in here, or was it just me?

"You left off my superior intelligence and charming personality," Ranger grinned.

"Smartass."

"Thought you'd be impressed by my mind reading capabilities."

We got out of the car and made our way inside the restaurant. A hostess led us to a booth in the back.

"You can't really read my mind. I just have a convenient habit of saying the things I'm thinking out loud."

"Oh?" Ranger opened his menu. "You mean like the fact this Pancake House was really your second choice for lunch today?"

I made face. "What? I'm pretty sure it was numero uno. I mean, come on. The place had pancakes in its name." And it smelled like heaven.

"That's funny. I could've sworn _numero uno_ was…" Ranger leaned over the table and whispered something behind his menu. I promptly felt a rush of heat crawl up my neck and settle in my cheeks.

I'm not really sure how Ranger knew I'd momentarily fantasized about eating room service off his flawlessly edible skin. Maybe I'd gone the whole word vomit route and verbalized my thoughts. Or maybe Ranger was better at the whole mind reading thing than he let on. Either way, I knew I was in some serious trouble. Especially since Ranger had already reminded me that he was still the opportunist. Oh boy.


	14. Chapter 14

Three plate-sized pancakes later I was debating if my shirt was loose enough to hide the popped snap on my jeans. I glanced down only to find a dribbled syrup stain setting into my top. Good grief. I was a mess.

"I take it you liked the pancakes," Ranger said, an amused smirk in his eyes.

"This is all your fault, you know." I dabbed at the syrup with some water. Like any other stain, it only seemed to make it worse. Jeez. What did these people put in the syrup here? Glue?

I gave an exasperated sigh. "We should've gone with the sandwich shop."

"Should've, would've, could've, babe. The damage has already been done. And besides, this place seems to get more foot traffic. How about you go check out the gift shop in back and see what you can find out?"

I gave up on the stain and slid out of the booth. Ranger smirked when I adjusted my pants, surreptitiously trying to button them again. I shot him my best Burg glare. Sometimes he was such a smug pain in the ass.

By the time I wandered through the entrance to the gift shop, my irritation was at a more manageable level. Mostly because I was surrounded by holiday cheer and Santa's workshop. It's hard to be miffed with twinkling lights flickering everywhere and plump, jolly snowmen wishing you peace and good will.

Damn. I should've opened a Christmas shop. Christmas 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year sounded nothing short or magical. Especially in a pancake house. It'd be like I'd died and gone to heaven.

Speaking of heaven… I poked my head back into the restaurant to try and sneak a peek at Ranger. That guy was driving me nuts and making me crazy all at the same time. It was something he'd always done. Maybe since the day we'd met.

I couldn't really see him since his back was to the wall facing the entrance. Keeping an eye on things. Alert and ready. Some things never change.

I'd just shifted my attention to a cute "Cookies for Santa" plate when out of the corner of my eye I saw a familiar figure walk into the restaurant. A waitress seated him at a table at the other end of the room. A good twenty paces from me.

Although it had been dark at the time and I'd been a little tipsy, I had a pretty good feeling this was our guy. Partly because his appearance and hair fit the bill, but mostly because my spidey senses were going crazy. And if that weren't enough, I could also sense Ranger's "eyes on target" vibe from across the room.

Time stood still while I watched him order a coffee. Had he seen us? Surely he had. Ranger was kind of hard to miss. Unless he was doing his whole "wind" impersonation. The whole situation felt off. Like all of this was just a little too easy.

I waited half a second for Ranger to make his move. I'd seen how these situations went down in the past. Ranger would walk by the table, all charm and manners, and ask our "friend" to step outside with him for a more private conversation. The friend would refuse, as any sensible person probably would under the circumstances, and Ranger would change tactics.

He'd shove the guy's chest into the table with one quick, fluid movement, wrench his arms behind his back, and hoist him to his feet. Most of the time, this whole process happened so quickly, it didn't even draw attention from onlookers. When it came to apprehending people, Ranger was as smooth as they came.

I could feel my adrenaline spike while I waited back stage for the main event. But for whatever reason, it didn't happen. I glanced at the booth then back at our guy. What was Ranger waiting for? A freaking invitation?

I was still trying to figure out what the heck was going on when our fake cabbie friend glanced up from his menu and locked eyes with mine. Uh oh. Not good. I tried to back up a few steps to get out of his line of sight, but I collided with a customer in the store. She gave me a nasty look just before my feet got tangled up in a stupid holiday rug. I lost my balance and reached for the table next to me, missing entirely and snagging the table cloth instead.

Christmas came crashing down all around me. Ranger, bless his annoying heart, was already up and heading over to my rescue. I thought about giving him a cheesy smile until I realized our cabbie friend was dropping some cash at his table and making a break for it.

I glanced up at Ranger. He was just starting to shake his head no when I bolted up off the floor and catapulted myself across the room. I was maybe five feet away from my intended target when I collided with a waitress.

Eggs, orange juice, pancakes. The whole tray went everywhere. Fortunately, I'm used to this kind of mayhem. It just went with the territory when it came to my style of bounty hunting. So I used the shock and awe factor to my advantage and tackled the cabbie while he was busy catching flies with his mouth hanging open.

Score one for Stephanie Plum!

"This is all very exciting," he grunted beneath me. "But I'd hate for things to get too rough for you, sweetheart."

I shot him an intense look of impending doom. "I've got backup," I snarled. "You're the one who should be worried about things getting rough."

I felt Ranger's presence behind me just before I felt him pull me to my feet. We just stood and stared at each other. Ranger's mouth was twitching so bad it looked like he was having a seizure.

"So I'm a little rusty," I snapped. "Big whoop." My hands tried to brush off some of the mess, but I already knew it was no use. I had so much Christmas and breakfast everywhere that I probably resembled a shaken Christmas globe featuring a holiday IHOP.

Ranger's shoulders shook in a silent laugh. He almost couldn't even choke out the word. "Babe."

Yeah. Ha ha. I know, I'm a riot. "Hey, I got our guy," I said indignantly turning back to the cabbie. He was watching the exchange with a certain level of amusement. "You're welcome. Now we can have that chat."

"Bad news, babe." Ranger couldn't fight back the grin any longer. "He and I already had our chat. While you were admiring tinsel town."

I narrowed my eyes. "Did you now?"

The cabbie smirked. "It was fun, but the whole romp with you was much better. Be sure to give me a call if you ever need a wrestling partner."

Ranger shot him an icy look. The smirk quickly disappeared.

I did an about face and made a beeline for the exit. You know, before my brain had a chance to register the shocked stares of my captivated audience. I was almost back to the car when I heard footsteps behind me. A familiar arm draped over my shoulders. His lips kissed my hair.

"You always make life exciting," Ranger said.

I ducked out of his embrace and socked him square in the jaw.


	15. Chapter 15

Catching Ranger off guard is kind of like the Browns winning a super bowl. It just doesn't happen. Even the notion of it happening is pretty outlandish. But after the impromptu punch to his face, I was pretty sure I had somehow accomplished the impossible.

His eyes were slightly wider than usual as his hand moved to his jaw, rubbing it with slow, controlled movements. I mentally cringed when I saw the blood smear on his lip. Oh my gosh! I made Batman bleed! Surely there were repercussions for something of this magnitude.

Was he going to send me to Siberia? Punch me back? Take me over his knee and spank me?  
I did a mental eye roll. That last one was probably my hormones talking…

Time stood still as I waited for all hell to break loose. But again, like in the restaurant, nothing happened. Ranger just stood there. Watching me.

"How long have you been hiding that in your arsenal?" he asked, a look of amusement etched in his eyes.

I shrugged. "To be fair, I don't always know what's in my arsenal until I use it. It's a bit of a grab bag."

"That felt more calculated than some random grab. Got something you need to get off your chest, babe?"

"You mean other than the syrup and orange juice stains?"

His mouth twitched at the joke. "Other than that."

I thought about it a moment, running through a long list of possibilities. I chickened out at the last minute. "Not at this juncture."

"Then we're good?"

Well, that was a loaded question. Frankly, I had no idea what we were anymore. Good probably wasn't high up on the list at the moment. But something told me standing in the parking lot covered in glitter, tinsel and breakfast probably wasn't ideal for having a serious conversation about it.

"We're good."

"Then get in the car. We'll discuss options."

I almost made some snarky remark about manners and the positive effects of saying please and thank you, but the tension still felt a little high for snark. I decided to shelve it for later.

We angled into Ranger's rental, and I tried to ignore the sticky state of my clothes and a few lingering pangs of guilt. Ranger may have deserved my fist in his face, but I still wasn't feeling so hot about drawing blood. There were lines with these sorts of things, and I was pretty sure I'd crossed one. Though you wouldn't know it by looking at Ranger. If anything, the punch amused him. Ranger has issues.

I sat in my seat and waited for the layout of our options. Ranger pulled down his vanity mirror and stuck out his chin.

"Damn," he muttered. "You've got a vicious right hook, babe."

I tried not to show my sudden burst of pride. Getting a compliment from Ranger, especially in sparring tactics, was like winning the freaking gold medal at the Olympics. It felt that good.

"I would apologize, but my mother always told me I shouldn't say it unless I mean it."

Ranger's mouth twitched. "Touché."

"So, about those options…"

"We have two." Apparently followed by some prolonged silence.

"And those would be?" I prodded.

"First option, we check into that Best Western and get you hosed down and cleaned up."

"Funny."

"Hey, I'm not the one wearing lunch."

I rolled my eyes. It was actually _someone_ _else's_ lunch thank you very much, but I guess that was beside the point. "And option number two?"

"You wait to clean up until we get back to Boise, and Tank gets us on a red-eye to DC."

"DC? As in Washington?"

Ranger gave a single nod.

"What's in DC?"

"A mess."

"Thanks. That really does a great job explaining everything," I muttered.

"The cabbie was sent as a distraction."

A distraction? Okay. "I'm afraid I don't follow." Because I swear Ranger talks in code.

"Our target knew I'd recruit you for this project. Sent a colleague to make some idle threats and lure us after the wrong bait."

"Sneaky."

"She's got a reputation for that sort of thing."

Whoa. Hold the phone. _She?_ "So, we're not after the creepy cab driver anymore?"

"We never really were. I just thought he might have something he didn't. It wasn't exactly a wasted trip though. Managed to get our location for the target with a little persuasion." Ranger rubbed his fingers and thumb together indicating some funds had been exchanged.

"That's helpful."

"People usually are with the right incentive."

Yeah, I wouldn't know. Ranger has a bit more in the incentive department than I do. Okay, a lot more actually. The man owns a very successful security company. I own an artificial fish tank.

"So, basically this all comes down to a shower."

"Could be a pretty magical shower." He shot me a look that made me pat my pants just to make sure my clothes hadn't spontaneously burst into flames. Good news. They were still intact. Bad news? I wasn't so sure I wanted them to be.

"We should probably do the red-eye," I blurted. "You know, just to make sure our target doesn't get a chance to relocate."

"Seems like the prudent choice." Ranger really has a way with words. He somehow managed to say I picked a wise choice while also implying I'm a prude at the same time. Impressive. "You sure?"

Um…no? "Yeah."

Ranger got out of the car.

"Wait, what are you doing?" I asked.

"I need to set things up with Tank. Besides, I thought you'd feel better driving. The winding roads aren't as bad that way."

Hard to argue with that. I wasn't exactly thrilled to experience a repeat of the morning. Especially on a full stomach.

We swapped places and began our journey back to Boise. As we passed the Best Western, I snuck a quick glance over at Ranger. There was half a millisecond of regret for not choosing the shower. Okay, maybe it was a _smidge_ longer. But the point is, it should've gone undetected. But of course, it didn't. It never does with Ranger.

He didn't look back at me. Didn't say a word. But from the corner of my eye I saw the telltale barely-there smile. I'd never felt so furious and turned on in my life.

 _A/N: My apologies to any Cleveland fans out there. The analogy was just too good :)_


	16. Chapter 16

At the airport, I decided to regroup. I'd flirted with danger long enough. It was time to buckle down and stop eyeing Ranger like a giant slice of rich, chocolatey cake. I needed to start eyeing him more like a moldy Brussel sprout. Or at least a salad. Something I had no problem staying away from.

I'd convinced myself before we set out on this wild goose chase that we could do this as friends. People did that sort of thing all the time, right?

Okay, maybe not _this_ sort of thing exactly. I seriously doubt most friends went out tracking down miscreants on a regular basis. But surely there have been documented cases of friends of the opposite sex helping each other out without falling into bed together.

I started counting the examples as we made our way through airport security. Well, as far as I knew, Henry Higgins and Eliza Doolittle weren't romantically involved. Fitting. Ranger had used the pair as an analogy for us back when we'd started working together.

Let's see. Who else? Batman and Cat Woman were kind of friends. Except they kind of had a thing for each other too. Okay, bad example. Superman and Lois Lane were obviously out. Rocky and Adrian…no. Damn. Were there any guy-girl pairs that weren't romantically involved? Maybe Harry Burns had a point. Men and women couldn't be friends. Not without things getting complicated.

Ranger gave me a funny look as I finished lacing my shoes.

"Find the solution to world hunger yet?"

"Ha. Ha."

"Babe, the wheels were grinding so hard, I could've seen the smoke from across the airport. What's got your attention?"

I sighed. "I hate Harry."

"Who the hell's Harry?"

"Burns. You know, When Harry Met…" I rolled my eyes. "Oh, forget it. I doubt you'd understand the reference."

He shrugged, and we gathered the rest of our things. Thankfully, the one and only gift shop was still open. I snagged a pair of Boise State yoga pants and a long-sleeved tee to match. I can't say blue and orange were my favorite colors to pair together, but at this point, anything was better than my food-stained shirt. Beggars can't be choosers, can they?

I slipped into the nearest bathroom and wiped up what I could with paper towels. That wasn't embarrassing… Then I redid my ponytail, touched up my foundation and added a few extra swipes of mascara. Voila! Good as new. Mostly.

Ranger was leaning against the wall when I came out of the bathroom. His mouth twitched when he saw me.

"Go Broncos."

I gave him one of my classic eye rolls. "Again, not my fault."

"Never is."

I hoisted my duffel to my shoulder. "Which gait are we at?"

"Clear at the end. Although that's not really saying much. There's only about twenty gaits down this way. You ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be, I guess."

Ranger slung his arm over my shoulder and kissed my hair. I could feel the smile. "You smell like maple."

I tried to shove him away, but it was like trying to move a block of concrete. "Don't think I'm above punching you again. I've had a very long day, and you're making my life difficult."

"Maybe you're making your life difficult."

I narrowed my eyes. "How do you figure?"

"I thought things were always pretty simple when it came to you and me." He turned and started walking down the terminal. I practically had to sprint to catch up.

Simple? He thought things were _simple_ between us? Was he insane?

"What exactly is your definition of simple?" I asked. "Because from where I'm standing there is absolutely nothing simple with you. You're like a freaking mind game wrapped in an impossible puzzle box."

He slowed his pace. "What happened to thinking I'm the man of mystery? I thought you liked a good puzzle."

"Well, sure. What girl doesn't love putting a puzzle together? You know, especially when she gets to add a piece every few years or so." My words were drenched in sarcasm.

Ranger grabbed my elbow and walked me like a tantrumming two-year-old to a secluded waiting area. I ripped my arm away, gave him a dirty look, and slumped into one of the uncomfortable airport chairs. He came and sat next to me.

"I didn't mean…" He paused. "I'm not sure why you're bent on hating me right now, but this would all be a hell of a lot easier if you'd cut me some slack. Or at least tell me what I did, so I can apologize, and we can move on."

"What you did? Are you kidding me? You've been harassing me since the moment you showed up on my doorstep."

There was a long stretch of silence. Like maybe Ranger was considering the truth of my accusation. Granted, there was more to it than that. We both knew it. But that admission was going to have to wait until I knew Ranger would be out of my life for good. Or at least heading back to Trenton. It would be too hard to face him otherwise.

"Maybe I should request a different seat when we get to the gait," I said. "It might do us both some good."

"That could be a challenge."

"Yeah?"

"The flight's full."

I blew out an exasperated breath. "Fantastic."

"We've got a layover in Seattle. You only have to share space with me for an hour and change before we change planes."

I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. "It's not like that. I don't mind sharing space with you."

"You sure?"

Was I sure about that? "Yes." I turned so I was facing him. Damn, he was gorgeous. Even with a fat lip. And the obvious irritation in his eyes. "I'm sorry." I hoped the brief apology conveyed everything I really felt. That I was trying to apologize for more than a lucky right hook and a bad attitude.

The stern look softened a little. "Me too."

A muffled voice came over the com system announcing our flight was about to board.

"Guess that's us," I said getting to my feet.

Ranger caught my arm. "You're not getting off that easy. We still have unfinished business."

I made a face. "Don't we always?"

"Babe."

We boarded the plane and took our seats in back. I pulled out the SkyMall magazine while Ranger attempted to situate himself into a moderately comfortable position. A muscular, toned physique comes with a price when flying business class.

The engines roared to life, and I absentmindedly drummed my fingers on the armrest. I wasn't the best flyer. The pressurized cabin and cramped space didn't exactly appeal to the panicky part of my brain. Nor did the fact I was soon to be thousands of feet above the ground. Logistically speaking, travelling in a metal tube at warp speed didn't seem like a very good idea. Especially in the dark.

Something warm and heavy stilled my nervous fingers as we lifted off the runway. I glanced over and the armrest that had been separating the seats had magically disappeared. Ranger laced his fingers through mine before leaning back and closing his eyes. He didn't let go until we landed in Seattle.


	17. Chapter 17

We landed at the Dulles International Airport at some ghastly hour unsuitable for anyone other than crazy business moguls, black-caped vigilantes, and those scary, peppy baristas who make sure we are all properly caffeinated before the earliest of work days begins. Oh, and Ranger. His days tend to start while the rest of us are busy banking REM cycles. Or at least they had in the past. Which is probably why he's walking off the plane looking bright-eyed and bushy-tailed while I look more like one of those decrepit cartoon characters with toothpicks holding their eyes open.

"Please tell me Tank had the decency to book us a hotel room," I said as I stumbled my way down the terminal. I could've sworn someone added cement bricks to my duffel bag during the flight because I could barely lift the stupid thing.

Ranger stopped and readjusted his bag before taking mine too.

"You don't have to do that," I started to protest. "I can probably… Oh, who am I kidding? Think you could manage carrying me too?" I snorted back a laugh. I'm a real riot this early in the morning.

Ranger stopped again, glanced down at the two bags, shifted them both to one arm and hoisted me up over his shoulder before I had the wherewithal to process what was happening.

"Ha. Ha. You can put me down now," I said before giving a rather spectacular eye roll. Apparently he missed the sarcasm because for some reason, he just kept walking. "No, seriously. Put me down. Like now."

Nothing. Except I had the faintest suspicion he was fighting back a smile. Hard to tell considering I was currently facing his flawless backside. Can't say that I really minded the view.

Ranger!" I hissed. "People are staring!"

He slid me off his shoulder and grinned. The Jersey reflex part of my brain thought I should flip him the bird on principle alone, but the overly sleep-deprived part thought the situation was funny as hell. I pursed my lips trying not to laugh. A snicker snuck out anyway.

"It wasn't that funny," I said. Although my traitorous smile probably wasn't very convincing. I was too tired to care.

"Babe."

We somehow managed to find our way to the rental car area where a black four-door sedan was waiting for us. I gave Ranger a look.

"Since when do you drive Hyundai Accents?" I asked. Not that I was really complaining. Anything with wheels was better than having to walk another step as a zombie.

"Since we need to keep a low profile." He glanced back at me, and his mouth twitched. "Were you hoping for a Turbo?"

"Actually I was hoping for a bed. Any chance the place we're staying is like five minutes away or less?"

"How about thirty?"

I sighed. "In sleep time, that's like a hundred years. I think I'm gonna need more caffeine."

Ranger threw our bags in the back and held the passenger door for me. "Come on, Sleeping Beauty." He glanced at his watch. "I hear the donuts are best when they're fresh."

At least he knew the language to speak to keep me motivated. Too bad I knew better. "It's a lie. Donuts are best after a decent night's sleep."

Ranger smirked before shutting my door. He signed some papers and walked around to the driver's side. His smile broadened as he slid in and got situated. I propped my elbow on the window ledge and rested my head in my hand.

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" I asked before stifling a massive yawn.

"Like what?"

"Like you're looking at an old picture or something."

We pulled out of the parking garage and hopped onto the freeway. DC looked like it had already been awake for a while. Crazy politicians.

Ranger's voice interrupted the silence. "I've been looking at old pictures for the last two years. I'm just savoring the moments spent with the real deal."

The car felt warm, and my mind was all kinds of fuzzy. The response could've been me dreaming. Hell, the whole airport could've been a dream too. I've had crazier dreams.

I gave him a sleepy half-smile. "You're savoring moments of a food-covered, crazy-haired zombie?"

He shrugged. "Let's just say I miss early mornings with you."

"But I hate early mornings. I whine and complain about everything. Even I know I'm a real pain in the ass before dawn."

Ranger's mouth twitched. "I miss that too."

"That's funny." I closed my eyes. "If you missed me so much, why'd it take you two years to hunt me down, huh? It's not like my new address was some great mystery. Pretty sure I'm even listed in the White Pages. That stuff's all on the internet now," I smirked. "Crazy useful if you're trying to find someone."

"You're not going to remember this conversation, are you?"

"What are you talking about? I remember everything," I snickered. "No grass growing up here, remember?"

I didn't have to see Ranger's face to know he was smiling. Dream or no dream. In any reality, I would always continue to amuse Ranger. It's just how we worked.

"I thought it finally happened," he continued.

"What happened?"

"That you woke up one day and realized what I'd been telling you all along."

"Oh." I sank deeper into the drowsiness that was slowly overtaking me. "You tell me a lot of things," I slurred.

"I told you that you and I were a bad idea, and that I couldn't give you what you wanted."

"Mmm…"

"I'd been mentally preparing myself since the very beginning because I knew someday I'd have to let you go. Guys like me only get to hold on to girls like you for so long. I made a promise to myself several years back that if you ever pulled the plug, I wouldn't stop you. So, I didn't."

It felt like the car came to a stop, and I floated somewhere in between that murky realm of dreams and reality. Then I was suddenly surrounded by soft sheets and fluffy pillows. Heaven.

I felt a gentle kiss brush my cheek. "Sleep well, babe. We've got a busy day ahead of us."


	18. Chapter 18

"Stayin' Alive" by the Bee Gees pulled me from my sleep. In the back of my mind I wondered if it was going to be the theme song for this particular trip. With Ranger, it was a pretty good possibility.

"What's with the throwback to disco?" I grumbled into my pillow.

Ranger was at the desk with his back to me working on his laptop. He swiveled around.

"Thought it might be nicer to wake up to than the usual annoying self-destruct beeping sounds."

"Oh."

I stretched and yawned and was feeling pretty good until realized I wasn't wearing any pants. Interesting. Didn't remember taking them off, so I assumed Ranger had taken the liberties. I snuck a quick glance under the covers to make sure he hadn't taken any additional liberties. Good news. My panties were still in place, which meant I probably hadn't missed anything spectacular. But my bra was MIA.

"I sent your dirty clothes and new BSU gear to the front desk to be laundered," Ranger said as if reading my mind.

"And my bra?"

His mouth twitched. "You complained it was uncomfortable while sleeping and chucked it across the room. I think it's somewhere on the other side of the bed."

Ah.

I leaned over my mound of pillows and felt around until my hands touched something slinky and smooth. I wadded it into a nondescript ball and crawled out of bed.

"Do I have time for a quick shower, or are we on some kind of schedule here?"

Ranger shut the laptop. "Go take your shower, I'll get the coffee going, and we can head out as soon as you're done."

"And?"

"And we'll drop by some chain place to grab something to eat."

I gave him a look. "Yeah. Kinda figured that was a given. I meant what are we doing after? Or better yet, what's the plan?"

"Shopping."

I kicked my duffel with my foot. "That's sweet of you, but not really necessary. I've got an extra pair of jeans in here."

Ranger's eyes were glued to my bare legs. "Jeans aren't going to cut it, babe. I need you to blend in some professional business settings. Ella gave me a list of shops that should have what we need."

I couldn't deny that the prospect of new clothes was exciting. I mean, what girl doesn't love to shop? But a spur of the moment shopping spree wasn't exactly in my budget. "Am I supposed to pay for all of this?"

He shook his head. "I am. It's part of the job, so it's on me."

"I can't ask you to do that."

"You're not. Consider it a uniform if you want." His eyes still hadn't left my legs, and I'm pretty sure they'd gone a shade darker. If something didn't change soon, I was going to get sucked right into his gravitational field. Yikes!

He moved as if to stand, and I panicked. I ran for the bathroom and locked the door. "I'll be out soon," I called through the door. I could almost feel the wolf grin from the other side.

Twenty minutes later, I was washed, clean and smelling a lot less like warm orange juice and bacon grease. Of course, the hotel shower and products were lackluster compared to Ranger's Bulgari infused bathroom of heaven back at Rangeman, but clean was clean and I wasn't complaining.

I lingered in the bathroom for a while wondering if it was wise to walk out in nothing but a skimpy towel, but it looked like I didn't have much of a choice. In my hurry to hop in the shower, I'd left all my clean clothes out in my duffel. With any luck, Ranger had stepped out to make a call or something, and I could snag my bag without any problems.

I cracked the door and scanned the room. Ranger was reclined on the bed, hands behind his head. And his eyes were closed, but I seriously doubted he was sleeping. Things could be worse, I mused. He could've been naked…

"You just gonna stand there, or did you need something?" His question made me jump.

"I'm debating."

"Must be some pretty serious debate."

"I don't know if this towel is long enough to safely grab some clothes from my duffel."

His mouth twitched. "Why don't you come out here, and I'll tell you if it's too short."

I rolled my eyes. "Why don't you be a gentleman and just hand me the damn bag?"

Ranger hopped off the bed and slid my bag closer to the bathroom door. Close, but still far enough away that I'd have to take a few steps passed the door to grab it. I wondered if he'd done it on purpose.

I blew out a sigh and decided to reach for it anyway. "You must be tired. Your aim's off."

"My aim's perfect, babe."

I glanced up to see him eyeing my very visible cleavage. "I meant to ask you earlier, what's with your change of scent?" I was hoping the random question would throw him. Thankfully, it seemed to hit its mark.

"Is that your way of telling me I smell bad?"

"Not bad. Just different. You don't smell like…well, you anymore."

"Ella stopped buying the Bulgari products."

My eyebrows crinkled. "Why would she do something like that? It's like your signature scent."

He sat on the bed. "Because I asked her to."

"Oh."

I realized then that I was still standing in nothing but my skimpy towel. Something I needed to remedy before it accidentally fell off and my hormones took over.

"I should probably get dressed."

I slipped back into the bathroom and pulled out my spare pair of jeans and a t-shirt. When I went digging for some clean underwear, I realized I'd had my bra in the bathroom the whole time. Of course.

Halfway through trying to tame my unruly mess of curls, Ranger came in with a cup of coffee. He set it on the counter, and I took a small sip.

"Wow, that doesn't taste like any hotel coffee I've had. What's your secret?"

"I doubled the coffee packets and added some cinnamon."

I gave him a look in the mirror. "And what, you just carry cinnamon around with you everywhere?"

"Doesn't everyone?" My eyes widened, and he set a container of cinnamon on the counter. "I borrowed it from the breakfast nook," he smirked.

"Smooth. Any other tricks for the afternoon?"

He pulled something else out of his pocket and tossed it over to me. When I realized what it was, I almost burst into tears.

"Ella says hi. She figured you might need it at some point."

He disappeared back into the room, and I just stood staring at the travel-sized bottle of the magic curly hair goop. Leave it to Ella to pamper me from afar. The woman was magic.


	19. Chapter 19

"How does she do it?" I asked, fluffing my hair in the vanity mirror. My curls were actually behaving themselves and looked pretty darn spectacular. Man, I loved Ella.

"She likes you."

"You think she'd be interested in relocating to Idaho?"

Ranger smirked. "Probably doesn't like you that much. Her kids are all in Jersey and New York, and she's got a clan of grandkids now."

"Bet they're spoiled rotten," I smirked.

"Let's just say they're well loved."

I silently wondered how Ella felt about adopting a full-grown adult because it'd be kind of nice to be well loved like that. Plus, the woman made Paula Dean look like an amateur in the kitchen. Even if she only sent me a dozen of her cookies a few times a year, I'd still be the luckiest person on the planet.

"Babe."

"Huh? Sorry. Were you trying to say something?"

"No. You were drooling."

"Yeah, well, I like cookies, okay? Something you'd understand if you were halfway normal."

He just shook his head. "What cookies were you fantasizing about?"

"Ella's. She must add extra butter or something because they always melt in your mouth." My eyes glazed over again, and I subconsciously licked my lips.

"Babe."

We pulled off the freeway and meandered our way through Georgetown. The buildings were mostly brick and adorable. Lots of charm and history.

"I've never been to this part of DC before," I said. "It's nice."

"It has its moments. Unfortunately, the socio-economic discrepancy is pretty staggering around here. You head too far any one direction and you hit the slums. And trust me, you don't want to be getting lost in the rough part of town."

"Good to know."

We turned down P Street and stopped in front of a little boutique with a backwards "E" and normal "R."

"What's this place?"

Ranger pulled out his money clip and handed me a credit card. "It's a high-end consignment shop called Ella-Rue. Came very highly recommended. I've got some things to take care of before tonight, so I'm going to turn you loose."

"Figures," I said, rolling my eyes. "Men always seem to have business to take care of if there's shopping involved."

Ranger's mouth twitched. "Maybe you could give me a fashion show later."

I ignored the comment. "What exactly am I shopping for?"

"Mostly business. Nice slacks. Sexy heals. Low-cut blouses…"

"Just where exactly am I supposed to working?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That's what I'm on my way to find out. Do you think you'll be done in a couple hours?"

I glanced at the door. "Looks like I'll have to be. The shop closes at six."

He gave a nod. "There's a few more boutiques and the like on M Street and Wisconsin. Feel free to head wherever. Just let me know where you end up."

"Right." I shoved the credit card in my wallet and slid out of the car. A couple of women came waltzing out of the boutique. Their outfits were pressed and pleated, and judging by the lack of fine lines and wrinkle on their faces, they looked like they'd recently been given Botox injections. I faltered.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm getting the feeling I probably don't fit the bill for this store's typical clientele. I mean, look at me." I took a step back and gestured to my t-shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes.

Ranger leaned over the center console, so he could see my eyes. "Is your name Stephanie Plum?"

"Uh, yeah. Last time I checked anyway."

"Did you grow up in Jersey?"

"Unfortunately."

His mouth twitched. "And are you currently in possession of a credit card with a staggering high limit?"

I glanced down at my purse. "I don't know, am I?"

"Let's just say for all intents and purposes that you are."

"Okay, then. Yes."

"Then you're exactly the kind of clientele this establishment wants. Just walk in and do your thing. You'll fit right in."

More high-end shoppers exited the building, and I made a face. "I don't know. I'm kinda feeling like Pretty Woman right now. What if they kick me out?"

Ranger made a sound that almost resembled a sigh. "Want me to come in and explain things?"

"You mean like the fact that I'm not a cheap hooker."

"Babe. They aren't going to think you're a cheap hooker. I just thought I might enlighten some of the salespeople on your spending habits. Should make them eager to help."

I rolled my eyes. "Ha. Ha."

Ranger climbed out of the car and met me on the sidewalk. "Come on, Vivian. Let's go get you that killer wardrobe."

He hooked his arm in mine and half-escorted, half-dragged me to the door. I took a few hesitant steps inside and glanced around. Jiminy Christmas! Was that really an $800 blouse? At a consignment shop? Holy Moley!

A smartly dressed sales associate walked over to us. She gave me a good, long assessment before she caught sight of Ranger. "Can I help you?" she asked.

Ranger flashed her his megawatt smile. "They lost our luggage at the airport, and this lovely woman here needs some new clothes. I was told this is the place to shop."

She gave him a polite yet skeptical nod. "Indeed it is. Have you…shopped with us before?"

"No. But you came very highly recommended." Ranger handed the woman a business card and another random slip of paper. She gave a curt nod before turning back to me.

"Your size?"

Not my favorite topic of conversation, but whatever. "I guess a four on a good day, and a six the rest of the time."

The woman laughed. "Let's assume today's a good day then."

Ranger leaned in close before the sales lady whisked me away. "Don't forget the tie," he whispered.

The tie scene from Pretty Woman flashed through my mind, and my cheeks warmed.

"I'm not getting you the tie," I started to say through clenched teeth, but as I should have suspected, Ranger was already gone.


	20. Chapter 20

_A/N: Here you go Pammisue. A longer chapter ;)_

I stared in the mirror at the stunning piece of sewing perfection. This must be what Cinderella felt like when her fairy godmother showed up with that fancy blue dress. And although her dress was made by magic, mine was made by Neiman Marcus, and trust me, there was no comparison. Mine was better.

I hated that I loved the fabric so much. And hated even more that the stupid, over-priced dress loved me back. It literally fit like a glove. Like a sexy, mind-blowing glove. Damn.

A sales associate knocked on my dressing room door. "There's someone here to see you, Ms. Plum."

"Let me guess. Tall, dark, and handsome?" I glanced one more time over my shoulder, admiring my backside in the mirror.

"I suppose that's an apt description."

"Tell him I'll be out in a minute."

I sighed and carefully unzipped the dress. Ranger said I needed professional business clothing, and although this dress was definitely sophisticated, it was more black-tie than office. So I draped its straps over the hanger and gave it one final longing look before heading back out into the shop.

Ranger was waiting for me near the register not looking the least bit flustered by the fact he was probably the only male in the consignment shop. Quite possible the only male in a hundred foot radius of the place. He still looked like he belonged anywhere. A skill I'd probably never master.

It's probably a family trait. Manoso genes blend. Plum genes attract mayhem. And Stephanie Plum genes attract magic dresses she can't afford. I decided at that moment being a Plum was kind of a bummer.

Ranger's mouth twitched when I came to join him up front. "Have fun?"

"It was a little depressing when something I liked didn't fit, but yeah, the overall experience was good."

He stared at me as if processing something. "Was there a problem?"

"What? Oh. Yeah, no. Everything's fine."

His eyebrow arched ever so slightly. "I know you better than that. Care to revise your statement?"

"Not unless you've got a magic wand," I muttered.

My eyes widened when I realized what I'd said. I'd been so hung up on the dress and my Cinderella fantasy that I'd gone and blurted the blaring euphemism. Ranger looked like maybe he was fighting back a laugh, but he didn't say anything. No "babe." No innuendo-infused comeback. Nothing. Maybe a high-end consignment shop was the one place he didn't do suggestive talk.

Ranger nodded toward the door. "We should probably get going."

"But I haven't paid for the clothing yet," I protested, reaching for my purse.

"Already taken care of."

I glanced over at the sales associate who gave Ranger a nod. "It's been a pleasure, Mr. Manoso. Thank you for coming in today."

He nodded back, and I gave him a look. "You make friends quickly," I whispered.

"Babe."

Back at the car, I was surprised to find the back seat full of garment bags and boxes. "Is that all for me, or did you go shopping too?"

"I have a few things back there, but most of it's yours."

I cringed. "Sorry. I didn't mean to go overboard." I glanced back again. "You sure that's all mine?"

"Yep. The sales associate said they were stunning on you."

"Except she's a _sales_ associate. Her job is to make sales. She'd probably say a garbage bag looked stunning if it meant she'd make a profit."

"Maybe." Ranger glanced at his phone. "How much time do you think you need for a wardrobe change and a quick hair transformation?"

"Depends."

"On?"

"Details. You still haven't given me any."

Ranger considered the statement as we meandered through traffic. "We've got some hoops to jump through first. I'm counting on you making an impression tonight, and then we'll go from there."

I slumped in my seat and crossed my arms. "Typical," I grumbled. "I bet if Tank was here, you'd give him more details."

Ranger's mouth twitched. "Babe, if Tank was here, I'd be screwed. He doesn't look nearly as good in a skirt and heels."

###

A few hours later, a taxi dropped me off in Lafayette Square in front of a large hotel that bore a striking resemblance to the Parthenon. The Hay-Adams Hotel. I paid my cab fare and tried to make a graceful exit onto the street, stumbling only slightly on my new four-inch heels. Guess it had been a while since I'd played dress up, and my flashy, Jersey girl side was a little rusty.

I walked through the main doors and scanned the lobby for the elevators. Suddenly, it felt like the whole room was watching me.

"It's the outfit, babe," I heard in my ear. "Beautiful women always draw attention. Just go with it."

If Ranger was in the building, I didn't see him. No tingling spidey sense either. And yet he was already reading my mind. Just like old times.

I strutted to the elevator with the added boost of confidence, and requested the rooftop bar. "Off the Record" seemed like an appropriate name for a bar with certain people of interest. Especially people of interest to Ranger. People like Collin Williams.

The bar was fancy. Way fancier than the kinds I was used to. Men with crisp, fitted jackets talked in low tones at the tables. Women in Dolce and Gabbana waited with fancy wine glasses at the bar. If anyone's language was slurred, you couldn't hear it, and there wasn't a glass of cheap booze anywhere. People weren't here to get drunk fast. They were here to talk business and socialize.

"Why don't you head to the bar and grab a glass of wine. Williams hasn't arrived yet," Ranger said in my ear.

The one-sided com system was kind of annoying. Especially considering I was connected with Mr. ESP. Maybe that glass of wine wasn't such a bad idea after all.

"What'll it be this evening, ma'am?" the bartender asked, giving me a not-so-subtle body scan. Guess the outfit was really hitting its mark. And here I thought Ranger's reaction was just because I was feeling flirty after all the shopping and the shower.

"A glass of wine would be nice. Whatever you recommend is fine."

He grabbed a fancy glass and filled it with a deep, burgundy liquid. It smelled amazing.

"Good recommendation," I said after a sip.

"It's a Tempranillo from Spain. One of my personal favorites." He leaned over the counter. "So what's your story? I haven't seen you in here before, and I'm pretty sure I would've remembered."

I flashed him a flirty smile, just for fun. "Recently moved here actually. Heard about a job from a friend, and I thought it might be worth looking in to."

"Babe." My earbud came to life again. "I'd tone down flirting with the bartender. Williams just entered the hotel. He's dressed in a dark, navy suit and red tie. Try to make contact, but keep it subtle. We want to bait the hook."

When the voice in my ear went quiet, I realized the bartender was looking at me funny. "Did you hear what I asked you?"

"No, sorry. Sometimes after really long days my mind just cuts out on me. What was the question?"

His mouth tipped into a smile. "No worries. Happens to me all the time. I just asked where you're from."

"Oh. You know, here and there."

"A woman of mystery," he smirked. "I like that."

Gee, no kidding.

I caught a glimpse of Williams entering the bar and tried to think up good yet subtle introduction. On a typical distraction I probably would've just flashed some cleavage and called it a day, but this wasn't a typical distraction. Williams needed to be lured in slowly because according to Ranger, we needed him to get to someone else. And with any luck _that_ someone would be the end of this whole wild goose chase. Otherwise I was probably going to strangle Ranger.

The bartender got distracted by some customers, so I took the opportunity to regroup. I was just about to make my way into the crowd when I noticed Williams eyeing me from across the room. Apparently I wasn't going to need that clever introduction after all. These fancy business clothes were working like a charm.

Williams gave a nod when his gaze met mine, and I returned the gesture with a small toast of my wine glass. Then I turned my attention back to the bar. Playing classic hard to get.

As predicted, Williams started meandering his way through the tables to the vacant bar stool next to me. He took his seat and ordered some fancy whiskey. I continued sipping my wine, pretending not to notice him.

"Never seen you here before," he said, keeping his eyes focused on the wall in front of him.

"Probably because I'm new in town," I replied.

He rattled the ice in his glass and took a sip. "What brings you to DC?"

"Life."

He smirked over his glass. "Fair enough. Got any plans while you're here?"

"Work. Fun. The usual." I flipped my hair over my shoulder. "Although I can't say I was expecting the price tag here. Cost of living seems pretty steep."

"You're telling me. Seems to get steeper every day."

"Are you saying sticking around might not be worth it?"

Williams shrugged. "How about I show you the sights sometime and let you decide for yourself?"

I sipped my wine. "I've seen most of the sights already. Lincoln's memorial, the Washington Monument. Hell, I can see the White House from here."

Williams slid off his bar stool and passed a business card across the counter. "If you change your mind." He leaned in closer, brushing his shoulder against mine. "I'll show you the sights not listed in the brochures."

"Something to keep in mind."

Williams gave me a subtle wink before disappearing into the crowd.

I pocketed the business card and did some people watching before pretending to take an important call and slipping back out to the elevator. Time to call it a night. I had the concierge call me a cab and waited in the lobby until it arrived.

"See you back at the hotel," I heard in my ear as I slid into the back seat. "Job well done, babe."

I smiled and popped the ear bud in my clutch as I sat back and watched the city lights and sights pass by outside the window. DC was kind of growing on me.

"Have a nice night?" the cab driver asked.

"Not bad." I leaned forward. "Not to sound rude or anything, but you're the first female cab driver I've had."

"Yeah? No kidding."

"Bet you get a lot of interesting customers around here. Ever have anyone famous?"

"A few smarmy politicians but that's about it. No one super exciting."

We made our way across town, everything going according to plan. But a few blocks before we reached the hotel, the cab took a sharp turn down an alleyway and came to a stop. Fantastic.

I glanced around. "Is this part of the back alley scenic tour?"

The door locks clicked. Crap.

"I think you and I need to have a little chat," the driver said. "What exactly do you know about Collin Williams?"


	21. Chapter 21

"What do _you_ know about Collin Williams?" I asked in an attempt to turn the tables. If I could keep this psycho cabbie talking for a while, I had a pretty good feeling I'd probably have some backup soon. You know, since Ranger kind of had a history of keeping me on a short leash.

"I know he's not someone you want giving you a business card these days."

Something metallic slid and clicked into place in the front seat. A sound I wished I didn't recognize. I instinctively raised my hands and shrunk back in the seat when my new friend pointed a gun in my face. Lovely.

"Jeez! What the hell?" I yelled.

"You're trying my patience. So let's try this again, shall we? What exactly do you know about Collin Williams?"

My heart was already pounding in my ears, my breathing way past erratic. I never did well in these kinds of situations. Too much adrenaline. Not enough coherent thought. It wasn't a good mix.

"You know, I can honestly say I don't know much." Thank you, Ranger.

"But you knew Williams would be at the hotel tonight," she stated, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

I shook my head. "A friend knew."

The gun moved closer, and I swallowed hard. "I'm gonna need the name of your friend, chica."

"What's your deal with this guy anyway?" I muttered. "Are you his crazy ex-girlfriend or something?"

The driver gave a sardonic laugh. "You're tangling with Williams, and you think _I'm_ crazy? Your 'friend' must be a real piece of work."

He was. Kind of. But that was beside the point.

"I need a job that pays more than minimum wage, and rumor has it, Williams is the guy to see." At least that was the story Ranger wanted me to use if I ran into a situation where I needed one. Although I was starting to have a real bad feeling about the kind of "work" Williams was involved in. Like maybe I should've demanded more details up front. Figures.

"You know, you're either really smart or incredibly stupid," the driver said. "And it doesn't usually take me this long to decide which." She moved her body past the front seat until we were almost touching noses. I could practically feel the sweat start to accumulate at my hairline.

Good grief! Where the hell was Ranger?

She gripped the lapel of my blouse with one hand and kept the gun focused on me with the other. "There's something about you that intrigues me, so I'm gonna play nice today and let you off with a warning."

The close proximity was making me really uncomfortable. Even more so when her lips curled into a frightening smile. One I was fairly sure I'd seen somewhere before. I started going through my mental list of creepy weirdos.

"Stay the hell away from Williams," she sneered, pressing the gun to my temple. "Even if you know more than you're letting on. There's too much at stake. Got it?"

I gulped and gave a frantic nod.

"Good."

She moved back to the front seat and hit the lock for the doors. "You better hope I don't see you again, chica. The experience won't be pleasant if I do."

"Noted," I replied before grabbing my clutch with shaky hands and sliding out the door. I took a few steps onto the blacktop before the tires spun out and the cab disappeared down the street.

I kicked some trash in the alleyway. Mostly because it seemed appropriate. "Stupid Ranger," I grumbled.

Then I took a deep breath and started walking. At least this time I wasn't dropped off in the middle of nowhere. There were street signs and familiar buildings. I'd probably manage to make it back to the hotel in one piece.

After hiking a block in my heels, my feet were already threatening mutiny. Not that I could really blame them. Four-inch heels weren't the greatest for random, unscheduled sightseeing tours. I slipped them off and said a silent prayer there wouldn't be any razor blades or drug needles on my route back.

Twenty minutes passed, and I was pretty sure I had been walking in circles. In DC. After hours. Ranger's warning about the wrong parts of town suddenly popped into my head. It probably couldn't be any worse than Trenton though, right? I'd survived encounters on Stark Street more times than I could count, and this area seemed like a cakewalk in comparison. At least that's what I kept telling myself anyway.

I turned a corner and realized too late it was probably not the corner I wanted to turn. There was lots of graffiti, broken-down buildings, and hooded figures lurking in the shadows. Suddenly my new clothes didn't feel all that magical anymore. I would've much preferred to be wearing Kevlar.

I kept my head down and tried not to draw attention. It was a bit of a challenge. You'd have to be blind and stupid not to notice upscale business Barbie strutting around the ghetto.

A low cat-call cut through the darkness. "Hey pretty lady. You out past your bedtime."

I continued walking, pretending not to hear the remark.

"That ain't no way to treat a brotha," he growled.

I heard his footsteps growing louder behind me. My instincts screamed "run," but I was worried he might have friends nearby. If I couldn't outrun them, I could be in some serious trouble.

I whipped around and shoved him hard in the chest, taking my stand. "Back off," I snarled, trying to channel every ounce of fury I possessed.

He stumbled back a few steps and gave me a wicked grin. "You a feisty one, ain't you? Lucky for you, I like 'em feisty."

"Yeah? Well, like this!" I reeled back with my stiletto and slashed him across the face with the pointed heel.

He squealed and hissed like a wild animal, and I took off running. "You crazy bitch!" he screamed, racing after me. "That's gonna cost you big."

His beefy hand caught my arm and swung me around hard. I tripped on my feet and crashed into him sending us both to the ground. He gripped my shoulders and tried to flip me under him, but my knee connected with his crotch before he had the chance. He immediately crumpled into a groaning ball of pain.

I got to my feet and dusted myself off. Then I sneered down at my attacker. "If you ever come after me again, I'll make sure this heel connects with your carotid. Got it, pumpkin?" He gave a groaning nod.

Satisfied with his response and his current inability to retaliate, I continued on down the road. Only to be stopped a few feet later by some slow, punctuated applause.

"You are one scary woman," came a familiar voice.

"And about to get scarier. Where the hell have you been?"

Ranger stepped out of the shadows. "I could ask you the same question."

"What, you didn't have some kind of hidden tracker on me transmitting my location?"

"I did. But someone ditched it on their cab ride home. It took some time to find you without it."

I made a face. "Well don't look at me. I don't even know where you put it."

Ranger took a step towards me and pulled the clutch out of my hand. He popped the clasp and looked inside. "You sure you didn't take it out of here?"

"Maybe it fell out when I was being held at gunpoint by my new crazy cabbie friend."

Ranger made a face and shook his head. "Only you, babe."

"Yeah, well, I think it's time you and I had a real discussion about Collin Williams. My cab driver wasn't exactly thrilled that I'd made contact this evening."

Ranger glanced around. "Not here. Let's talk back at the hotel."

I dug my hands into my hips. "Yeah, I don't think so. I know how you like to 'talk' about things. And I won't get a word in edgewise."

The wolf grin appeared. "I've never had any complaints before." He drew a slow, seductive line from my collar bone to the edge of my low-cut blouse. My knees promptly turned to jelly.

I cleared my throat-and my head-and moved to bat his hand away, but he caught my arm mid motion and pulled me to him. I narrowed my eyes. "Want to end up like the last guy who provoked me?"

Ranger smiled and let me go. I slipped on my stilettos and fluffed my hair. "Where are we parked, Jeeves?"

He slung an arm over my shoulders and kissed my hair. "One scary woman," he said again as he guided me down the street.

I didn't bother hiding my smile.


	22. Chapter 22

It was late by the time we made it back to the hotel, and my mind was still humming from my most recent taxi encounter. My long lost spidey-senses were back in full function, and I knew I wasn't going to be able to sleep.

Something about the driver was still bugging me. She'd felt familiar in a distant-cousin kind of way. Like maybe I'd seen her somewhere in a picture before. Only bummer for me, I've seen a ton of people in pictures. Like in their mugshots from their files when they skipped bail. There was just too much data to sort through, and my BEA skills were kind of rusty. Nothing was ringing a bell. Yet.

"I see smoke," Ranger said, glancing up from his computer at the desk. He'd promptly busied himself with work when we got back to the hotel to avoid the conversation about Collin Williams. I'd let him get away with it too. It was just easier at the moment.

I sat up from staring at the ceiling on the bed. "You mentioned a girl we're looking for. Do I know her?" I asked.

"No."

"Is she from Jersey?"

"Lived in Newark for a while, but she's moved around a lot for work." He leaned back in his chair. "Reminds me a little of you, actually."

"So, she's stunning, brilliant, and a mega fan of Boston Creams?"

He twitched a small smile. "Try restless and impulsive with some good instincts."

"I'm not restless," I countered. "I lived in the same apartment and had the same job for years."

"Not the kind of restless I mean, babe."

I made a face. "I didn't realize there were different kinds."

Ranger closed his laptop. "There are different kinds of everything." He glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. "Are you going to bed? It's getting late."

"Probably not for a while. Why?"

"I've got to make a few calls, and I didn't want to bother you when I got back."

I gave him a look. "Yeah, like you're really known for making a lot of noise."

"Babe."

I got up from the bed and headed for the bathroom. "I'll probably just take a shower. Clear my mind and all that jazz. Maybe order some room service if the shower doesn't work its magic." I gave Ranger a mischievous grin.

"I know a better remedy for insomnia." He crossed the room and backed me up against the wall. "It involves lots of sweat, elevated heartrates, and some pretty intense endorphins."

My mind went kind of fuzzy as my body instinctively pressed against his. "I don't think that's a very good idea," I all but panted.

"You sure?" His voice was low and velvety. "The gym's open 24 hours."

My eyes widened. "Are you insane? I'm not having sex with you in the gym!"

"Didn't realize sex was on the table," he smirked. "I was talking about a run on the treadmill."

I shoved his shoulders back and gave him a dirty glare. "Yeah. Sure you were."

He leaned down and kissed me before heading back to the door. "Good luck with that shower, babe," he said over his shoulder before disappearing down the hall.

Men.

I went and grabbed a t-shirt and underwear from my duffel before heading back to the bathroom. I sighed as I flipped on the shower spray. So much for clearing my mind.

After twenty minutes of suds and unproductive thinking, I was pruny and mostly relaxed enough to wind down and sleep. Hopefully. As I hopped out of the shower and began toweling myself dry, my ears perked at a noise coming from the room. Sounded like maybe Ranger was done with his calls.

I went to sneak a peek, but before I had a chance to open the door, it slammed into me from the other side. I crashed into the sink and slumped to the floor in a heap. What the hell?

My assailant was dressed in black. Black hooded sweatshirt, slim black jeans, black running shoes. Judging from the figure, she was also female. Interesting.

"Where is he?" she growled.

"Where's who?" When in doubt, play dumb, right? Maybe this nutcase got the wrong hotel room. Not super likely, but hey, who knows?

She took a threatening step closer and got right up in my face. "You know who."

"Lady, I was just taking a shower. I have no idea what the hell you're even talking about."

She pulled a gun from her sweatshirt. I frowned when I recognized it.

"Seriously? How did you find me?" I asked.

"You're kidding, right? You gave me the name of this hotel in the cab earlier."

Oh. Right. "But it's not like I advertised the room I was staying in," I muttered.

"You are really stupid, you know that? I can't believe he'd sink to working with someone so incompetent. Must really be scraping the bottom of the barrel these days."

"Hey!"

I was just about to lay into my black-clad attacker when a shadow suddenly materialized behind her. A familiar, prowling, panther-like shadow. And the shadow didn't look very happy.

In one swift motion, he picked her up and dragged her out of the bathroom. I scrambled to my feet, curious to see how the situation was going to play out.

I got to the doorway just in time to watch Ranger dump the woman in black on to the bed. She lunged at him, and I watched wide-eyed as the two engaged in a surprisingly competitive sparring match. Every time I thought Ranger had the upper hand, the girl would land a strategic punch to level the playing field. He'd pin her. She'd pin him. It was like watching a train wreck, and I couldn't look away.

Then something amazing happened. Something I never would have expected in a million years. The girl somehow managed to wrangle Ranger's arms behind him, shove his face to the floor, and do something crazy amazing with her legs, so he couldn't move. A person who probably couldn't have weighed more than 130 pounds soaking wet had just incapacitated Batman. Holy. Crap.

And if that wasn't enough mind-blowing for the night, the freaky, scary woman leaned over Ranger, hocked a nasty loogie, and dangled it threateningly above his head. It was just centimeters away from its intended target when she sucked it back in.

"I believe I've made my point here," she said in a gruff tone, pushing Ranger harder into the floor.

A deep growl came from the carpet, and I just stood staring like an idiot from the bathroom. Not even realizing my towel had become partly untucked. But seriously, what's a little indecent exposure when you've just witnessed the equivalent of pigs flying?

"You need to take your stupid little sidekick here and head home," the woman sneered, glancing up at me. "Stay the hell away from me and keep that ugly nose of yours out of my damn business. Got it, Ricky?"

Holy crap! Did she really just call Ranger Ricky? Who the hell was this woman?

She gradually released her hold, and she and Ranger both got to their feet. He gave her an icy glare before his face kind of softened into a smirk. He nodded at the gun she had trained on him. "That's not loaded."

She rolled her eyes and shrugged. "Fooled your girlfriend earlier."

I came stomping out of the bathroom. "Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. First off, I am _not_ his girlfriend. And second…" I took in the scene again. "What the hell is going on here?"

Ranger made a sound that could've been a sigh. He crossed over to the woman in black and tugged the hood off her head. "Babe, this is Isabella Manoso." He glanced back at her. "My sister."

Holy family resemblance, Batman! So _that's_ where I'd seen that smile before. It was the scary one Ranger used when interrogating the bad guys.

And the similarities didn't stop there. They had the same eyes, the same silky black hair. Their mouths even twitched and curled in the same ways. Weird.

Isabella gave an annoyed finger-wave from across the room. "Nice to meet you, whoever you are. But seriously, you two need to leave."

"And why might that be?" I asked as I glanced down and noticed my disheveled towel. I quickly spun around to rewrap it.

"Because I'm knee deep in a case that wreaks like a rotting corpse in August, sweetheart. And I don't need you two nutcases swooping in to screw it up. That's why."

At that moment, I wasn't really sure I liked Ranger's sister. You know, since she'd insulted me like a hundred times in the last few hours. It was true my skills were pretty rusty, but all the name-calling was unnecessary.

It took me a moment to notice Ranger watching me from across the room. Probably because I was still transfixed on his female doppelganger standing next to him.

"Why don't you go finish getting dressed, babe. Izzy and I need to talk."

I felt like a ten-year-old being told to go to my room while the grown-ups discussed something important. "Or I could just join the conversation. You know since you asked for my help here and all."

Ranger made another noise like a sigh before turning to Izzy and starting a conversation. In rapid-fire Spanish. Dammit!

I sat on the bed and listened for a few minutes hoping to catch a familiar word or two, but nothing registered. I gave Ranger one final nasty look before heading back to the bathroom. Then I made a mental note to take a Spanish class when all of this was over.


	23. Chapter 23

_A/N: Sorry for the disturbing nature of this chapter in advance. It's nothing graphic, but some of the content is definitely unpleasant. Don't worry, the good guys are on the case! Now, on with the story!_

After killing some time in the bathroom fussing with my hair, I thought I heard the outer door open and close. I poked my head out and found the room empty. Figures. Classic Manoso disappearing act. Sibling style.

I went and slumped on to the bed. What the hell was I doing here? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Apparently I'd only been enlisted to wear fancy clothes and provide amusing dialogue. That was it. And I had a hinting suspicion the mission was over now anyway. We'd found the missing sister. A little easier than I expected, but hey, whatever. Maybe I was on one of my lucky streaks.

My mind flashed back to Collin Williams and some of the things Isabella had said about the case. It was probably something dangerous. High stakes. Typical Manoso mayhem. I wondered how Mama Manoso coped with the stress of having children with jobs like this. Maybe she didn't. Maybe they just kept her out of the loop. Sometimes I wished I'd been granted that kindness. Ignorance is bliss, right?

I sighed and started packing up my things. It was time to be done with all of this. Maybe it wasn't the kind of closure I'd been hoping for, but it was going to have to be good enough. Ranger and I would always have…something. Whatever it was. That undefinable connection that always made things way too easy and somehow ridiculously complicated at the same time.

And maybe he'd show up at my door again one day. Or maybe he wouldn't. But at least now I wouldn't be walking on eggshells waiting for it. His appearances or lack thereof were survivable. A little painful maybe, but nothing a little time couldn't heal. I'd be fine.

"What are you doing?"

I'd been so distracted by my thoughts and the absentminded packing, I hadn't even heard the door. I jumped and clutched my chest when I realized Ranger was standing right behind me.

"Jeez! Do you always have to move like a freaking shadow?"

He shrugged. "Old habits." His eyes dropped to my duffel. "Are you packing?"

"Actually I was thinking about testing its claimed water resistance. Want to toss it in the shower with me and see what happens?"

Ranger crossed his arms over his massive chest obviously unamused by my snarky response. I almost laughed at the familiarity of the gesture.

The smirk faded. "I think it's time I head back to Idaho. Even I know when I'm not needed anymore."

"Who says you're not needed?"

I stood and tapped my chin. "Hmmm. Let me think. Seems to me that if I _were_ needed, I'd have at least some clue as to what the hell's going on. Which I don't. And if you wanted to include me, there was a blaring opportunity when your sister showed up. You know, that whole "AB" conversation that you made me "C" myself out of. You're lucky I still haven't learned Spanish." I squatted down and resumed my packing.

"It was in Portuguese."

I rolled my eyes. "Just in case I picked up Spanish in Idaho, right?"

"Let's just say it crossed my mind."

I gave a sardonic laugh. "You know what? I'm actually okay with that. You set that precedent a long time ago."

He frowned. "What precedent?"

"The whole need-to-know basis thing. You always keep me on the outside. On jobs. In life. I thought it was kind of sweet initially. The way you'd go to such lengths to protect me. But honestly I think it's all just a lame cop out. Life's a lot easier when you don't have to be accountable to someone, right Ranger?"

His face was blank, but I could tell I'd struck a nerve. "There's more to it than that."

"Maybe. But regardless, I think it's time for me to go."

In one swift movement, Ranger grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet so that our bodies were practically touching. "What can I do to change your mind?"

I flashed back to every moment I'd had just like this. Every time those eyes had lured me in with the promise of something I thought I'd wanted. Something I still wanted apparently thanks to my body's not so subtle reminders. But dammit, I knew this time it just wasn't going to be enough.

"Nothing."

He released his grip on my arm and took a step back, muttering something under his breath.

"I'm going to go book my flight for the morning," I said, heading for the laptop.

"Don't."

I dug my hands in my hips. "You can't just keep me here against my will. That's kidnapping."

Ranger pulled out his phone and searched through its contents. "I need you to see something first." He pressed a button and handed me the device.

If he was smart, it would've been a video of him shirtless, working out at the Rangeman gym. A not so subtle reminder of what I could be indulging in that very moment. Something I'd gone over two long years without.

Except Ranger knows me pretty well. His video had an even more poignant message.

I watched as a girl appeared on the screen dressed in some provocative lingerie. Black garters and a lace teddy. Her face was done up like she was in a beauty pageant. Smoky eyes. Seductive, red lipstick. She couldn't have been more than fifteen.

A higher male voice cut through the silence. "You look very beautiful," he said.

The girl swallowed nervously. "Thanks."

I felt my stomach drop when the man spoke again. "Are you nervous, honey?"

She gave a small nod as tears welled up behind her eyes.

"You don't need to be nervous with me. I promise I'll be gentle."

The camera moved closer to the girl, its angle conveniently leaving out any defining features of its operator. A hand reached out and slipped the silky negligée strap from the girl's shoulder. "You just follow my lead, and everything will be just fine. Just fine," he said again, his voice dropping to a husky pant. I shut the phone off when I heard the sound of a zipper drop.

"Shit," I muttered, tears stinging my eyes. I wished I could unsee those brief moments of footage because my mind was already filling in the blanks of what horrors probably took place after I'd hit stop.

"Izzy came across that a few months ago. One of many. She's been working this case for the last eight months as an undercover operative. They're going after the higher ups on this one. Sex trafficking isn't anything new, but this ring is rumored to have some big names involved. Good leverage."

"Collin Williams?"

"He's involved in a different ring. I just wanted to get Izzy's attention. One of the men she's had her eye on frequents that bar. You were dressed like you were looking for a…higher paying job, so I played a hunch that she'd swoop in and tell you to look elsewhere."

"Thanks for filling me on the plan," I said rolling my eyes.

Ranger sighed. "I really am sorry about that, babe. It was a mistake." He went and sat on the bed. "Izzy's handler called me a few weeks ago and said she hadn't made contact in a while. It's not completely unheard of, especially for Izzy, but he was starting to feel a little antsy. They'd been zeroing in on some hard evidence thanks to a girl Izzy had tracked down, but suddenly the source went quiet."

"She wouldn't agree to testify?"

"Not that kind of quiet, babe."

My stomach lurched. "Oh."

"Izzy went in deeper trying to find her, but I'm sure you can imagine her fate isn't looking very good at this point."

"Is she dead?" I choked out.

"Maybe. But it's why I can't have you leave yet, babe. I really need you. Izzy does too, but I doubt she'll admit it right now." Ranger's mouth twitched. "She's a bit…headstrong."

"Must run in the family," I muttered.

Ranger ignored my comment. "So is that a yes?"

"Yes to what?"

"Yes, you'll stay."

I knew I was probably going to regret it at some point. After all, I'd seen some of my worst moments teaming up with Ranger. But then again, I'd also seen some of my best.

"I'll stay."

Ranger got up from the bed and wrapped me in an affectionate embrace. "Thanks, babe," he whispered into my hair. "I knew I could count on you." He took a step back. "You should probably get some rest though. We've got an early morning tomorrow."

I blew out a weary sigh. "Of course we do."


	24. Chapter 24

"Time to get up, babe. Busy day."

I squeezed my eyes shut tighter. "Mm mmm," I grumbled in protest.

I felt something smack my backside, and I jumped in surprise. Had Ranger just spanked me?  
Rude! And sexy? I glanced at the mixture of ugly red numbers on the alarm clock. Nope. Too early to be sexy. Just rude.

I squinted into the darkness as I looked behind me on the bed. Good news. Naked Ranger wasn't waiting looking like a starved predator. It was just my jeans and a t-shirt. Apparently they'd been tossed my direction to motivate me into getting out of bed faster. Yeah, hilarious. I know.

I scanned the room and found Ranger already dressed and ready to go. Show-off.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" I mumbled.

"Time to get up."

I stretched and curled into my pillow. "Yeah. That's really some motivational speech you have there, but I think I'm going to need something a little more substantial to get me going this morning." You know, like donuts. Coffee. A four-course breakfast. But apparently Ranger had other ideas about what he thought I meant.

He stalked toward me, eyes dark and predatory. Uh oh. I sprang from the bed and ran like a bolt of lightning to the bathroom, barely evading capture. Holy smokes.

"Not what I meant," I called through the door as I clicked the lock into place. It was useless, of course. I had yet to find a lock that could effectively stop Ranger, but sometimes he respected the artificial boundaries.

"Ten minutes for a shower. We don't have time for your leisurely spa treatments," he said.

I flipped him the bird through the door.

"Playing with fire, babe."

"Could say the same thing for you, waking a girl before 6 AM without coffee and donuts."

"Guess I'll have to take my chances."

With one final dirty look, I turned on the shower spray and shucked my clothes on the floor. Best not tempt Ranger's time limit. The consequences could be detrimental to my plans to avoid disaster for the day.

I hopped in, and after a few moments of temperature acclimation, I ratcheted up the heat to pre-scald. It probably wasn't my best plan. The heat and steam combo were making me drowsy. Well, that and my ever growing levels of sleep deprivation.

I frowned realizing I'd averaged about five hours of sleep over the last two days and nights. That probably should come with a public service announcement to the greater DC area: Beware. Sleep-deprived, mad woman on the loose. Eye contact and/or communication of any kind will be met with curses and Jersey-inspired hand gestures. Do not provoke.

Ha. I should totally make a t-shirt. Wear it any time I wasn't in the mood to deal with people. Of course, there are _some_ people who don't need shirts to convey that message. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine my face with Ranger's pants-wetting stare in place. It made me laugh.

Of course, that was before I remembered I was on the clock. I lathered, rinsed, and skipped the repeat part before patting myself dry. Then my brain had another realization. In my mad dash for the bathroom earlier, I'd forgotten my clothes in the other room. Again. Crap.

I was just about to jerry-rig a thickly layered, multi-towel robe when I noticed a steaming cup fogging up the mirror next to some neatly folded jeans, t-shirt, and… Holy crap! Was that a donut? And not just _any_ donut. It was…

I yanked on my clothes and darted out of the bathroom.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you…" I said on repeat as I flung my arms around Ranger's neck, nearly sending the both of us crashing to the floor.

It must have been my exhaustion speaking because I don't usually exhibit such high levels of gratitude over a single cream-filled pastry. Multiple, maybe. But single, not so much. And although I'd like to blame exhaustion for the kiss too, I had a hunch there were other forces of nature at work there. Like chemistry, animal magnetism, or Bulgari. Or some crazy combination of all three.

"S-s-sorry," I stammered, pulling away. "It' just… There's… You bought…"

Ranger lifted an eyebrow. "Wonder what would've happened if I'd gone with the baker's dozen?"

"Nothing," I lied. Then I made a hasty retreat to the bathroom. Ranger followed a few steps behind.

"That thank-you was probably premature," he said from the doorway. I had a feeling I wasn't going to like where this conversation was going. "Since time is of the essence, we need to split up this morning. I need to round up supplies, make some calls, and find out what kind of backup's available on short notice."

"And why can't I help with that?" I asked, pulling my hair into a make-shift ponytail.

"You could. But I can't do two things at once. I need more details from Isabella. As much as she's willing to tell. Anything and everything she can give us on the missing girl. The more we know going in, the better this plays out for everyone."

"And you want me to...?"

"Have breakfast with Izzy. Get her talking."

I shot him a look in the mirror. "Yeah. Or _I_ could round up the supplies, make the calls, and track down backup, and _you_ could have breakfast with Izzy. You know, since you're her brother and all. Besides, I think you have the better track record for getting people to talk."

"Would if I could, babe, but like I said, I can't be in two places at once. And you don't have the clearance needed to gain access to the supplies we need."

I hated to admit it, but he had a point. Ranger had his connections. Sordid as they may be. And I did not. But at the same time this felt an awful lot like he was using his wily Ranger ways to cleverly avoid breakfast with his sister.

I narrowed my eyes. "You do realize she hates me, right?"

"It's not you. Izzy hates everybody."

"Yeah, well thanks. That doesn't exactly make me feel any more inclined to have breakfast with her."

Ranger crossed the small bathroom, closing the distance between us so that he was standing directly behind me. Close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. His eyes held mine in the mirror.

"What _are_ you inclined to do, babe?"

I froze as my lungs struggled to remember how to breathe. "Is that a trick question?"

He didn't answer. And he didn't flip me around and take me on the bathroom counter like I half expected him to. We just stood there. My mind running wild with all the fantasies these kinds of situations inspired. Especially since the residual steam from the shower was making his skin look a lot like melted chocolate. Yum.

"Are my ten minutes up?" I somehow managed to ask. Phew. Saved by the semi-functioning brain.

Ranger snapped out of whatever trance he'd been in and gave a curt nod. "Grab your coffee and donut, and let's head out. Izzy won't be happy if we're late."

Something told me Izzy wouldn't be happy regardless. But whatever.

We made our way out to the rental car just in time to watch the sun begin to paint its DC backdrop in color. It probably would've been beautiful if it wasn't such a stark reminder of the time. I sighed and took a bite of my donut. It was a little disappointing. Since when did Boston Creams taste like regret?


	25. Chapter 25

This was nice. Ted's Bulletin was a nice diner. I mean, what's not nice about the smells of fresh coffee, bacon grease, griddled hot cakes, and syrup in the morning? Oh, that's right. My breakfast companion. Who'd been ruining the ambiance by giving me the stink eye since the moment I took a seat in the booth across from her.

"So Isabella, what's good here?" I asked, trying to break the ice. "Everything smells great. There probably isn't a wrong choice, right?"

She gave me a look like I was a moron but didn't answer. Lovely. I cleared my throat uncomfortably and went back to hiding behind my menu. Was it too early to ask for the check?

As I pretended to peruse my breakfast options, I couldn't help but note the irony of the situation. I'd met Ranger in a similar setting. And as I recall, he'd dressed to the nines for our first introduction. Thug clothes, gold chains, highly visible weaponry. Why I hadn't been scared out of my wits at the time, I'll never know. Apparently desperation really helps in these types of situations. That, and for some reason, I've always been able to see Ranger. Like really see him. And I've always liked what I've seen.

Guess I needed to try my hand at "seeing" the real Isabella. Take a look past the scary, rough exterior and try to find some common ground. There had to be some common ground somewhere, right? Maybe?

A waitress stopped by with some coffee and said she'd be back to take our order after clearing the table next to us. I resisted the urge to grab her arm and beg her to stay. Especially since the death rays Isabella had been shooting me from her eyes had somehow escalated to daggers. It was all I could do not to crawl under the table.

I took a mental deep breath, adjusted my posture so I didn't feel like I was cowering in the corner, and decided to go with the direct approach. Keep it simple.

"Sorry to be blunt, but what the hell's your problem with me?" I asked.

Her eyes narrowed into an even darker shade of scary. Gulp.

"You're interfering."

"Correction," I countered. "Your brother is interfering. All those nasty looks should be directed at him."

"Yeah, well, I don't see him here. Do you?"

She had a point. And Ranger was no dummy. He'd sent me in to take the brunt of this. On purpose. I made a mental note to exact my revenge later.

"For someone who's gone head to head with drug lords and trained assassins, the guy's a real chicken," I muttered.

Izzy smirked. "Be sure to tell him that later, will ya? It's my job to make sure that ego of his doesn't get too big."

"You've been slacking then. His ego's as big as ever."

She laughed and sipped her coffee. I silently congratulated myself. Guess that common ground wasn't going to be as hard to find as I'd thought.

"I take it you work with the men in black then?"

"Once upon a time. It's been a while."

"I didn't know my brother employed women. Thought his staff was mostly former military with a few ex gangbangers looking for redemption."

"Sounds like you know Rangeman pretty well then."

Izzy shifted her weight. "Let's just say we've done business on occasion."

The waitress returned to take our order, and Izzy continued her streak of surprises. Guess all the healthy eating stuff was a Ranger-only thing. She went with the Walk of Shame Breakfast Burrito, and I went with the Pancake Stack with a side of Ted's Tart. It was the local specialty. I couldn't not try one.

"Glad you're not one of those 'salad only' girls," Izzy smirked. "That's no way to live."

I laughed. "Your brother must have missed that memo."

"Maybe. But you get him around Tia Elena's cooking and that guy's as much a glutton as the rest of us."

I sputtered on my coffee. "No way!"

"It's his dirty little secret. Don't tell," she added with a wink.

Much to my surprise, I was really starting to like the rather colorful Isabella Manoso. Thank God for small miracles.

Our food arrived, and I decided it was time to get down to business.

"How long have you been working this case?" I asked. Izzy's eyes went a shade darker, and I was worried I'd jumped the gun.

"Too long," She shook her head. "I think I let my guard down. Got a little emotionally involved."

"I can imagine it'd be hard not to. Those poor girls."

She frowned. "He showed you one of the clips, didn't he?"

"Yeah."

"Or course he did." She shoveled a heaping bite of burrito into her mouth. "You know, this whole thing should've been wrapped up months ago, but I liked the girl I'd found. She had the right connections and the right inner shit to get the job done. Kind of like Joan of Arc, you know? Strong, young. Knew the stakes, but dove in head first anyway. I was a fool and made some promises I shouldn't have. And now… Now I can't find her."

I realized then I'd seen Izzy's expression before. It was the same look Ranger had after rescuing me from my untimely plunge into the Delaware. The look of knowing that no matter what crazy, superhuman skills you may possess, no matter your countless connections, sometimes they just weren't enough.

"It's not your fault," I said stupidly.

"Yeah? Well, you can tell that to the girl who's probably rotting in a watery grave somewhere."

I blew out a sigh and continued to work on my pancakes. "You know, the way I see it, you've got two choices. You can keep moping around, blaming yourself. Wasting time using the same dead-end strategies you've been using. Or you can pick yourself up by the bootstraps, swallow your pride, and accept the help of a brother who's got a pretty solid record of finding needles in haystacks."

The visual daggers returned. "And if I don't go with option number two?"

"You tell me. He's _your_ brother."

She rolled her eyes. "Ricardo Carlos Manoso. The major pain in my ass always wanting to swoop in to save the damn day. What'd he send you in to get from me anyway?"

"Details."

"Of course." She raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"You got a pad and pen on you, or are you one of those freaky individuals who remembers everything?"

I pulled the pad and pen I'd swiped from the hotel out of my purse and rearranged my breakfast dishes. "Alright, Isabella. What've you got for me?"


	26. Chapter 26

_A/N: My apologies. The school year started up again, so I've been busy lately. I'm hoping to hit a nice routine here soon, so I can pick up a good writing flow again, but until then, these chapters may be a bit sporadic. Hang in there! And thanks for following along!_

I was doing a mental recap of my notes and kicking some trash on the sidewalk when Ranger pulled in front of the diner to pick me up. In a different car. Interesting.

"What's with the new set of wheels?" I asked, sliding into the passenger seat.

"Surveillance."

"Is this a permanent change?"

"Temporary."

I gave a nervous laugh. "It's not stolen, right?"

There was a beat of silence before Ranger answered. "Borrowed."

Oh good. Glad to know we were driving around downtown DC in a "borrowed" car. Ranger sure knew how to keep things exciting.

"How'd it go with Izzy?" he asked as we merged into traffic.

"You know, the usual. I told her to eat dirt, and she ripped a chunk of hair out of my head. We laughed. There were manicures and pillow fights, and at the end we exchanged BFF necklaces."

Ranger gave me a look. "Someone's still cranky."

"Snarky. Not cranky. Breakfast with Izzy went fine." I pulled the notepad out of my purse. "See? I got your details. All of it's right here."

Ranger grabbed the notepad and flipped through the pages. He quirked an eyebrow. "I asked for details. Not the story of Chicken Little. What's with all the barnyard references?"

"Hey, don't look at me. I got that straight from the horse's mouth." I did a mental snicker at my own little barnyard joke.

"Must be coded."

Yeah. That was my guess too. "Izzy probably didn't want the whole prostitution ring thing circulating at the diner."

Ranger gave me a funny look. "Probably not."

"How'd it go gathering supplies?" I asked as I snuck a glance at the back seat. You know, just to make sure we weren't transporting any flame throwers or rocket launchers. It was kind of hard to tell considering all that was back there was a giant cardboard box.

"It went."

"Good?" I prodded.

"Probably as good as your breakfast with Izzy."

Considering Isabella Manoso was starting to grow on me, I decided the gathering of the supplies must have gone okay.

We meandered our way through the streets, and I watched some of the iconic monuments and memorials pass by outside. White house. Washington Monument. Reflection Pool. Suddenly the scene from Forrest Gump popped into my head. The one where Jenny splashes her way through the pool to get to Forrest. Except Jenny quickly morphed into me, and Forrest morphed into Ranger. And my internal body temp jumped up a notch or two imagining Ranger in uniform. Wow, was it just me, or did it suddenly get really hot in here? I leaned my forehead against the cool glass of the window and tried to distract myself. I was kind of tired. Yeah. That was it. Tired.

"Is there something next on our agenda, or can I go crash at the hotel for a while? Carb consumption makes me kind of sleepy." I gave a hefty yawn to emphasize my point.

"How about a walk instead?"

Gee. A walk. That sounded like a sneaky code for exercise. Exercise versus a nap. Hmmm… Let me see…

"Yeah, I'm voting more for the nap at this point. You know, since _someone_ got me up really early this morning." I gave Ranger the "yeah, that would be you, buster" look.

"You got your donut and coffee fix, didn't you?"

Yeah. I did. And that was nice. But sleeping in would have been nicer.

"You could nap too," I said without even thinking. Uh oh.

Ranger glanced over at me. His eyes looking a bit more big-bad-wolf than they had a minute ago.

"Tempting. But I think we'd better stick with that walk."

"Sure. Yeah. You're probably right. Fresh air and all that. A walk sounds great." Oh good. I loved when I started babbling. Thanks a lot hormones!

A few minutes later, we pulled into a lot for Rock Creek Park. Lots of trees, trails, people. And a large number of tennis courts. Must have been the game of choice for the political elite.

"This looks nice," I said before getting out of the car. "Very…outdoorsy."

Ranger gave me a look like maybe he wished he would've left me back at the diner. And I gave him a look that said this wouldn't have been a problem if he'd let me sleep in this morning. His mouth twitched. Something told me I'd won our little wordless argument. Woohoo! Score one for Stephanie!

Ranger headed for one of the trails, and I had to sprint to catch up. So much for this being a leisurely, romantic walk. Ranger didn't exactly do leisurely. And from past experience, he didn't do much of the other stuff either. He did spicy. He did flirty. He did fun. He didn't do romantic.

After about a mile-that felt more like ten-I was breathing hard and starting to sweat like a pig. All from a brisk walk. I frowned. Looks like I'd be joining a gym when I got home. At least for a week or two.

"Couldn't we slow down and take some time to enjoy the scenery?" I panted.

"I am enjoying the scenery," Ranger replied, slowing his pace and circling back for me. He did a quick scan of the area.

Right. "I would be too except my light-headedness is kind of making everything blur together."

He pulled his arm across his chest to stretch out his shoulder. "It helps if you breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth."

"Actually, it helps if you don't have an asshole for a walking buddy," I muttered. "What exactly are we doing out here anyway? This park is pretty big. We could be out here for days if we tried to walk the whole thing."

"It's not that big."

Says the man who could run a five and a half minute mile. I peeked at his treadmill stats once. So sue me.

"Aren't we supposed to be helping your sister?"

"Who says we're not?"

Just as I was about to shoot back some snarky remark, two suits in tennis shoes breezed past us. Talk about a fashion faux pas. But they didn't exactly look like the types who cared. They were talking in hushed tones and the taller one wasn't looking all that happy. Probably because he wanted to stop and enjoy the scenery too.

Ranger grabbed me by the wrist, and looped my arm through his. He kissed my forehead and smiled.

"How's work going, sweetheart?"

My jaw dropped. "Uh…"

We started walking. "Have any interesting customers lately?"

"Uh…"

"Sorry if I woke you this morning."

 _If?_

I leaned a little closer. "What the hell's going on?" I hissed.

"That's a great suggestion," Ranger said, keeping with his bizarro world charade. "I'm game for a romantic weekend away. Where should we go?"

I reached over and gave my arm a hard pinch. Yow! Guess I could rule out the possibility of this all being some crazy dream.

I smiled. "You're messing with me, aren't you? Ha. Ha." I poked Ranger in the chest. "You're hilarious."

Ranger took my hand and looped it through his arm again. Guess it was time for more walking. Eh, whatever. Two could play at this game.

"Ooh. Ouch." I stopped and grabbed my lower back. "I think I tweaked something at yoga yesterday. Could you give me a quick massage?" I batted my eyelashes real cute-like, and Ranger's smile started looking a little forced.

"Of course."

I turned around with my back to Ranger and realized the two suits we'd seen earlier on our walk were talking a few yards away. Of course. I should have known. Ranger was following a target. Now all that dorky cutesy talk made sense. It was our cover.

Ranger's hands connected with my back before I had the chance to remember I'd asked him to do that. I jumped at his touch. That is until his thumbs dug into my back muscles. Oh. Yeah.

My head lolled back. "Mmmm," I moaned. "Right there."

I thought I heard a low growl come from somewhere behind me, but I was too far gone to care. I'd totally died and gone to heaven.

Then the magic massage stopped. Darn.

"You know," I said, glancing at Ranger over my shoulder. "I may have tweaked something in my neck too."

Too bad he wasn't listening to me anymore. His eyes were focused on the two men.

I sighed. "What do we need from them?" I whispered.

"A name and location," he replied, his mouth barely moving. Ranger was in James Bond mode.

"Want to get closer?"

"Not really. I don't want to make them suspicious."

I gave him wink. "No problemo. I gotcha covered."

I pulled Ranger along behind me and slowly eased closer to the men. Just looking like your average couple enjoying the scenery. The men didn't seem to notice. Perfect.

I turned so my back was to them, so it could look like Ranger was looking at me while keeping tabs on the guys. I decided to strike up our cutesy conversation from earlier for added cover.

"Boston seems nice. Maybe we should go there for our romantic getaway."

Ranger was looking just over my head. "Boston, huh? I was thinking more along the lines of Hawaii."

Every time Ranger brought up Hawaii, my panties went damp. We'd vacationed there once before. Well, maybe "vacationed" was a bit of a stretch. We'd been there together on bounty hunting business a long time ago. And it had been kind of incredible. And terrible.

"I'm not a fan of Hawaii. It seems like some big, fancy mirage. Like none of it's real."

Ranger stopped looking at the men, and his eyes locked with mine. "Maybe your experience there was too short. It's very real, babe."

Suddenly I realized the men had stopped talking and had resumed their walk along the trail. Hopefully Ranger had picked up the information he'd been after.

"Did we get it?" I asked after the men were out of ear shot.

Ranger shrugged. "I hope so."

Me too. "You must have supersonic hearing," I added. "I couldn't make out a word they were saying."

His mouth twitched. "Supersonic hearing would be nice."

"But how'd you know what they were saying then?"

"Lip reading, babe."

Sure. Why not?

"Now," he said, draping his arm across my shoulder. "I believe you mentioned needing a nap earlier. And after the walk, I'm feeling pretty _tired_ too." His lips curled into one of his classic wolf grins.

Oh boy.


	27. Chapter 27

Thankfully the napping or any other activities falling under the same euphemism were kind of restricted due to an unexpected guest waiting for us back at the hotel. Izzy had let herself in and was leaning against the wall, dressed in black, arms crossed over her chest. I had to do a double-take to make sure this Manoso model was the one with the breasts.

"Hey Izzy," I said with a little finger wave as I went and flopped on the bed.

"Stephanie."

"Didn't expect to find you here."

She shrugged. "Desperate times." Her eyes fell on Ranger who had skipped the pleasantries and was now seated at the desk with his laptop. "What have you got for me, bro?"

He cracked his knuckles and leaned back in the chair. "I followed Dugan this morning. Had someone hack his hard drive. He's a sleaze, but I don't think he's your prostitution mastermind. Too blasé. Doesn't seem overly concerned with covering his tracks."

Izzy frowned. "I'm not surprised. He didn't seem to fit the bill, but his phone record linked him to all of this. So I figured what the hell. No stone unturned, right?"

I sat up on the bed and raised an eyebrow at Ranger. "I thought you were getting supplies this morning."

His fingers kept clicking away on the keyboard, but his eyes glanced up and creased slightly at the corners. "Multitasking, babe."

Right. And speaking of multitasking…

"Which barnyard animal is Dugan?" I asked Izzy, remembering my notepad. I'd managed to eat breakfast _and_ take notes this morning. No easy task, mind you, but I'd somehow pulled it off with minimal syrup dribbles. Is that talent, or what?

Suddenly, Izzy's eyes got real big, and she bit down so hard on her lip, I half expected for her to bite clear through. Ranger just shook his head. And I got a bad feeling I'd become the butt of a joke. Oh goody.

My eyes narrowed. "You made all of that up, didn't you?"

Izzy snorted back a laugh and doubled over in hysterics. "What gave me away?" she snickered, wiping the tears from her eyes. "I thought for sure I'd blown it when I brought in the mongoose."

I could feel my cheeks warm, but I fought back the embarrassment with some ice cold rage. "You knew?" I fumed, turning to Ranger.

"Babe."

That look he gave me in the car. Dammit!

This was starting to feel a lot like my initiation with Rangeman. Dry humor. Childish pranks. Jaw-dropping weird shit everyone passes off as normal. The good news was once I'd cleared that hurdle, I kind of liked working at Rangeman. Most of the time anyway. Some days I even thought I missed it.

The guys were all a bunch of softies hidden under clever layers of scary badassery. Their sense of humor may have been a little on the warped side, but I suppose that's to be expected with sordid pasts and living in Jersey. Truth is, they'd grown on me, and my optimistic nature wanted me to believe that Izzy might grow on me too. And she was growing on me. Like a festering, puss-filled boil.

"I need some air," I huffed. "You two have fun painting each other's toenails."

"Steph, wait," I heard Ranger call after me, but I was already out the door.

I marched down the hall a few feet before I realized I'd lied about the air. Fresh air was overrated. I needed sugar. Chocolate. Donuts. An orgasm. Wait, what? Nope, just the donuts.

I _really_ needed the donuts. Like a dozen. Maybe two. Hell, given the circumstances, why not a whole truckload?

Ugh! I'd gone almost two years without a donut meltdown, and now look at me! Less than a week with Ranger and I was already stress eating again. Throw in an untimely romp in some garbage and an exploding car, and we may as well have been back in Trenton.

Despite my sugar-inspired tirade, the thought made me a little nostalgic. Trenton was no Boston, LA, or Miami, but it had its moments. I knew all the ins and outs that made it tick. I knew the people. I knew the flow.

It had been a while since I'd felt like that. Two years, in fact. And I was starting to forget why I'd left it all behind in the first place. Fortunately, it didn't take me long to remember. And it had a whole helluva lot to do with the black-clad idiot who'd flown me out to DC. Well, him and Lula.

My chest ached at the memory of her. Some days I half expected to see that red firebird come barreling down my gravel lane. "You comin', white girl?" she'd ask. It was always risky to accept the invitation. But always worth it.

I snapped out of the fantasy and realized I'd subconsciously found my way to the hotel's vending machines. Guess I've got a pretty gnarly sixth sense for junk food. I frowned. The choices weren't all that great. No donuts. No Tastykakes either. What kind of an establishment was this anyway?

After narrowing down my selection to a Reese's or a Snickers, I played a not so fair game of eeney meeney miney moe to determine the winner. Sorry, Reese's. Better luck next time.

I dug into my purse to root out some loose change but came across something else instead. Collin Williams business card. I toyed with it a moment, mulling some thoughts around in my head.

Ranger had said earlier that Williams wasn't the big fish we were after. Said he was just a ploy to get Izzy's attention. That thought lingered for a while. The whole getting people's attention part. Because it was starting to sound like the beginnings of an idea.

I drummed my fingers on the vending machine and took stock of my situation. It was just an idea. And maybe not even a very good one. Because those are the kinds of ideas I get on a regular basis. The almost-clever kind. Those sneaky ones that masquerade around as epiphanies of brilliance but turn out to be duds with not-so-pleasant repercussions.

I chewed on my lip. Because maybe this one time I had something better than a dud going. Maybe this was the one idea that was going to save the day.

My hand dropped the card back in my purse, and I found the change I'd been looking for. I plunked in the coins and pressed the corresponding letter and number combination for the Snickers. Then something magical happened. Two candy bars came tumbling down as the coil uncurled. I pulled the bars out and nearly squealed in delight.

Holy smokes! Two Snickers! Hot dog!

Suddenly I got this image of Lula standing next to me in her poison green skirt. "Hunh," she said, smiling. "You sure don't see that every day."

No siree. You definitely did not.

Imaginary Lula tapped her foot. "So?"

I raised an eyebrow, trying not to openly converse with my imagination.

"What you gonna do, white girl? Seems to me you got a lucky streak going. Be a damn shame to waste it, don't you think?"

I shrugged. Imaginary Lula had a point. Go figure.

I gave her an "are you sure about this" kind of look, and she did a palms up gesture back. "How the hell should I know? I'm imaginary, remember?"

Ha, good one. I looked down at the double Snickers. Then back at my purse. Then at the Snickers again. I pulled out my phone and the card.

The line connected. "Hi, this is Stephanie. We met at the Hay-Adams the other night, and I was calling because I'd like to take you up on that offer."


	28. Chapter 28

I ended the call and felt a subtle tickle at the base of my neck.

"How much of that did you hear?" I asked without turning around.

"Enough."

Ranger was leaning against the wall in the hallway. For a fraction of a second, I thought about spinning some absurd lie. Insisting the call wasn't what it sounded like. Instead, I shoved a massive bite of Snickers into my mouth and confronted him like a grownup. Minus the mouthful of Snickers maybe.

"I had an idea," I said between bites.

"So it would seem." His eyes weren't playful, but they weren't dark either. I was almost positive he wasn't mad.

"We want to lure this big-name prostitution mastermind out into the open, right?"

Ranger gave a nod. "That's mostly the idea."

"Judging by experiences at the Macy's Semi-Annual Clearance Sale, the best way to lure the higher-ups out of their secluded offices is by making a scene."

"Personal experience?" he asked, his mouth twitching at the corner.

"Had to take Grandma with me a few years back. She got into a heated debate with a sales clerk over the mislabeling of the sizes for their lingerie. Things kind of got interesting."

"Babe."

"Bad mental picture, right?"

Ranger smiled. "So you want to create a scene big enough to make the head of a top-secret prostitution ring take a step out into the open."

I shrugged. "That's the gist of the plan that sounded pretty good a minute ago."

"Does it still sound good?"

I shoved in another bite of Snickers for an added boost of confidence. "I think it's got some potential."

Ranger slung an arm around my neck and began steering me down the hall. "It sounds impulsive to me. Not to mention dangerous. And I never like the thought of you in danger."

"Shouldn't leave me in a room with your sister then," I muttered.

Ranger grabbed my hand with the Snickers and leaned down to take a bite. My jaw dropped a second before my feet went stupid and got tangled up in the carpet. Thankfully Ranger has reflexes like a cat. He snatched me up before I completed my untimely face plant.

I righted myself and smoothed my clothes. "Did you just take a bite of my candy bar?" I asked, pretty convinced the last thirty seconds hadn't actually happened.

"Yeah."

"Did you think it was a granola bar?"

Ranger gave me a funny look. "No. I thought it was a half-eaten Snickers bar. Was I wrong?"

I blinked twice and stared at the partially wrapped candy still in my hand. Then I blinked twice again and looked back at Ranger.

"You seem confused. Or are you just mad about the candy bar thing?"

How could I be mad about something that was still registering as an event that defied the laws of nature? I pulled back the flap of wrapper covering the nutritional information. My eyes skimmed the list of ingredients. "There's sugar in here," I stated, assuming Ranger was unaware.

"Kind of figured there would be. It's candy, babe."

"And it's processed."

"Uh huh."

"And you ate it."

"Yes."

I took a step toward him and traced my fingers over his hard, muscular stomach. His hand caught mine just as it began an impromptu journey south. He gave me a warning look. "Not a good idea."

"I was just making sure you hadn't thrown your whole diet and exercise routine out the window," I explained. Yeah, I didn't believe a word of that explanation either.

"That's funny," he said, raising a suspicious eyebrow. "Could've sworn you just wanted an excuse to feel me up."

That too. "Nope. Abs are still intact, so you're obviously sick or something. Want me to call a doctor?"

"Can't a guy just want a bite of a Snickers?"

"Well, sure. If you were any other guy." I gave him a look. "But you _always_ pass up desserts and sugar. Always."

Ranger leaned down and kissed me with just enough heat to make me wish I was naked. "Not always," he whispered against my lips.

The statement wasn't inaccurate. I'd seen him eat a chocolate chip cookie before. Once. Just before we…

I saw a flash of a wolf grin before Ranger turned and continued down the hall. My feet followed a step or two behind, but a rush of butterflies in my stomach had me wondering if being alone in a hotel room with Ranger was a good idea right now. Okay, the good part wasn't in question. But the safe part was.

Next thing I knew, we were back at the room. I heard the lock on the door click, but my mind wasn't registering normal things like that anymore. It was wholly occupied with some heated negotiations with my hormones. Judging by my current rise in body temperature and the slight tingle between my legs, I had a feeling the hormones might be winning. Oh boy.

"So what's the plan with Williams?" Ranger asked, taking a seat on the bed.

I took a hesitant step into the room and did a quick scan for Izzy. From the looks of it, she'd inconveniently left. Crap. Thanks for nothing Izzy.

"The plan?" I repeated.

Jeez. Did Ranger always look this good fully clothed sitting on a hotel bed? I licked my lips.

"Babe?"

"The plan was a date with Williams," I said, my eyes already starting to glaze.

"Then what?"

Then what indeed. If my current predictions were correct and the stars cooperated by aligning just right, I was about to get my favorite doomsday orgasm.

Ranger's expression changed, his eyes stern and dark. Possessive. "You're not sleeping with Williams," he growled.

Whoops. Must have said that previous thought out loud. Except it had nothing to do with Williams.

I went and straddled Ranger's lap and leaned in close. "Not Williams," I breathed seductively against his neck. "I had someone else in mind."

Ranger seemed to get the implied message because I've never seen clothes come flying off so fast. Damn. He looked even better than I remembered.

His arms did this sexy flip maneuver that had me on my back in a matter of seconds. Convenient for me. It was right where I wanted to be.

I was so turned on by Ranger's dark, dilated eyes, I swear I had a mini orgasm. He sat staring at me, scanning me slowly from my head to my toes. The look was sheer desire. Then a flash of something else. Something I didn't like.

His mouth tipped into a frown. No!

"Sorry," he apologized. No! No! No! "I can't do this."

I sat up and started kissing his chest. He hissed when my lips grazed his skin. He _could_ do this, and I was bound and determined to make him forget his reservations.

"Steph," he moaned, begging me to stop and begging me not to at the same time.

I felt a small twitch of guilt.

"Steph, I'm begging you, please."

Damn. The magic word. I reluctantly pulled away and collapsed into the pillows.

"We need to talk," he said.

I suddenly felt very naked laying there on the bed. Exposed and foolish. Ever the mind-reader, Ranger crawled off me and retrieved his pants from the floor. He tossed me a shirt.

The bed dipped next to me, and I felt him reach for my hand. I pulled it away.

"I guess I deserve that. But I can't have you regretting this later. I'd never forgive myself."

Funny. Since when did the opportunist care about regret?

"I'll always want you, Stephanie," he continued.

I pulled the covers over my head just in time to hide the sudden rush of tears. I already knew Ranger wanted me. But I also knew the want came with certain restrictions. I'd foolishly ignored them back in Trenton. Convinced myself if I put it all out there, he would too. So I said it one night as he was headed out the door. The three little words that have always scared the hell out of me. I said it and meant it. And all I got in return was silence. He didn't even look back.


	29. Chapter 29

_A/N: Apologies, apologies. I know it's been a while, and yes, the chapter is short. But it's here. And you get to read it :) Yay! And for those who have asked me about continuing First Impressions, I've FINALLY got my copy of Two for the Dough back. No promises for updates in the near future, but maybe once I have a chance to read through it again, I can pick up where I left off. Anyway, hope you all...enjoy? I know most, if not all, of you are mad at this Ranger (as you should be), BUT answers are coming. Some day. Hang in there :)_

To say the climate in that little hotel room shifted to awkward was a blaring understatement. It was so far beyond awkward that I half expected to turn around and find Diesel snickering in the corner somewhere, tampering with my life again. Too bad when I scanned the room there was no Diesel to be found. Not even the lingering smell of cookies and Christmas. Guess I'd messed this shit up all on my own.

Wait, scratch that. Ranger had.

Yeah, that's right. This was all Ranger's fault. He was the one who showed up on my doorstep a few days ago. The one who continuously played casual flirt with all his seductive kisses and sexy smiles. The one who'd slammed on the brakes when I'd finally reached the max on my Hungarian hormone overload. Yep, this was definitely his fault.

And I wasn't going to forgive him for it either. Not this time. This was the match I'd been waiting for to burn the rickety bridge between us.

We'd have our conversation, of course. I owed him that much. But now I didn't have to worry about being the sniveling mess I'd feared when I finally told him this was it for me. That we were done.

No more wistful thoughts of wondering what it would have been like to be together.  
What it would have been like to live out my days at the Batcave. I already knew. It would have been painful. Devastating. And I was grateful I'd figured that out before we'd gotten carried away. No, let me rephrase that. Before _I'd_ gotten carried away. That was the real problem here, wasn't it? The whole one-sided thing going on?

Sure it takes two to tango, and man, did Ranger really know how to tango. But it also takes two to make a real relationship work. Two and a helluva lot of perseverance and a deeply rooted belief in the overall success of the operation. And a ring. Rings were nice.

Okay, so maybe the ring wasn't 100% necessary. Maybe it was even a bit cliché. But a symbol of that level of commitment was necessary, and as far as I knew, Ranger still believed it was sufficiently represented by a condom. Well newsflash, Batman, the only thing a condom symbolizes is the fact you payed attention in your high school health class on methods in avoiding STD's and unplanned pregnancies. Big whoop.

My phone suddenly chirped with a text, pulling my thoughts away from my little internalized rant. Shoot. Amidst all the awkward crap that had transpired, I'd totally forgotten about my date with Williams. And my plan. The details of which I'd inconveniently neglected to share with Ranger.

I flopped onto the bed and groaned into one of the pillows. Why me? How did I always land myself in these crazy situations? Really, I wasn't _that_ bad as a child. Maybe a little headstrong, but seriously, what kid isn't? Jeez!

I continued to wallow in self-pity until the clock on the side table caught my eye, and I realized I only had a couple of hours until my date. It was time to hike up my big girl panties and move on with the plan. Which unfortunately required swallowing down some humble pie with a heaping dollop of awkward whipped cream on top. Ugh.

My phone started ringing, but it wasn't Williams this time. It was… Oh great. Here we go…

"Hey," I answered.

"You're not sleeping with Williams."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for asking." My eyes rolled so far back in my head, I swear I saw my brain.

"Glad to hear. You're still not sleeping with him."

Yeah, gee thanks, Mr. Blunt. "Only if I have to default to Plan B."

"And how likely is that?"

"Not very if you get your ass back here. Where are you anyway?"

Ranger's voice softened a little. "Went for a walk. Wanted to give you some space."

"I'm not mad," I offered.

"Liar."

"Okay, I'm a little mad. But we're just going to pretend the last hour didn't happen. Sound good?"

"Babe."

"I'm serious!"

"Tell that to the image of you currently stuck on replay in my mind."

"Well, unstick it then. I don't have time for this."

"How about you promise a discussion once everything with Izzy is taken care of?"

I blew out a sigh. "Yeah, okay. I suppose that's fair."

There was a beat of silence. "Sorry, I'm going to need an actual 'I promise' here, babe. No weaseling your way out of this one. It's important."

The way he said "it's important" gave me a few nervous butterflies. Like maybe I should consider wearing a chastity belt to the discussion. Oh, good grief!

"Fine. Whatever. I promise. Are you happy now?"

"Why don't you see for yourself?"

There was a knock on the door, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I jumped off the bed and pulled on my jeans that were still laying discarded on the floor. Then I snuck a glance in the vanity mirror before answering. Ranger was leaning with one arm against the doorframe, his mouth almost smiling.

I gave him a look. "Don't you have a keycard?"

The almost-smile became more pronounced. "Guess it fell out when…"

"Nope!" I interrupted him. "That never happened, remember? And besides I know you wrote the book on 101 ways to open a locked door. That and its sequel on how to be a ninja badass."

"I thought it was how to be a badass ninja."

I rolled my eyes. "Get in here, would you?" I went to grab a fistful of his shirt, but he didn't budge when I pulled. I tried again with a bit more gusto, but nothing happened. Crap. Ranger's shoulders started shaking in a silent laugh.

"Having trouble?" he smirked.

I narrowed my eyes before turning on my heel. "Fine. Plan B it is then."

I felt a hand catch my arm two seconds before I was shoved up against the wall. "Not funny, babe. There is no Plan B. What did you have in mind for Plan A?"

His grip relaxed on my arm, and my lungs thought it would be a good time to start working again. I swallowed back my last shreds of dignity and took in a deep breath. "Don't go getting the wrong idea about this," I began. "But I'm going to need you to be my pimp."

Ranger's lips curled into a grin. "You always have the best ideas, babe."


	30. Chapter 30

"Shouldn't you be looking a little less…debonair?" I asked, poking my head out into the bedroom.

Ranger was leaning against the wall when I came out of the bathroom dressed in black slacks that hugged him in all the right places and a black dress shirt with a few strategic buttons undone. His hair was slicked back, and a hint of a smile flickered at the corner of his mouth.

This look wasn't just meant to melt panties. It was meant to incinerate them. I resisted the urge to check to see if mine were still intact.

"Not all pimps wear fur jackets and cowboy hats, babe."

True. But the pimps I knew all had a certain element of sleaze etched in their features. Ranger was currently conjuring up a zero in the sleaze department. The sex department on the other hand…

He crossed the room and gave me a very slow, very thorough body scan. "Nice dress."

On any other day that comment would have likely been a prelude to taking it off, but considering the events that had transpired earlier-or not, depending how far into Denial Land I was willing to go-it was probably just the Ranger equivalent of small talk or chitchat.

"Thanks," I replied, not really sure what else to say.

Ranger's eyes lingered on the taught fabric straining to contain my newly acquired cleavage. I tried to hide my blush with some pointless conversation. "They hooked me up with this fancy push-up bra at the consignment store," I explained, realizing the comment only made the heat in my face grow hotter. "Paired with this dress, it seemed to create the right kind of vibe for my night out with Williams, don't you think?"

Ranger's brow furrowed slightly. "If that vibe has anything to do with getting you naked, you need to go change. I don't want to have to murder Williams on this trip."

"Hold up there, Daddy Whorebucks."

The remark earned me a half annoyed, half amused smirk. I resisted the urge to laugh.

"You don't wear pajamas to an interview at Edward Jones," I continued. "I just want Williams to want to invest in the goods. Lull him into a false sense of security. It's part of our cover, remember?"

Ranger took a step closer and leaned down. "I remember." He kissed my cheek, lingering a little longer than he should have. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

I gave him a nervous smile before grabbing my new slutty heels and strapping them on. "This is going to work. I can feel it."

"And if it doesn't?"

I fluffed my hair in the vanity mirror and puckered my lips. Damn. This dress and I were a smoking hot combo. No wonder Ranger was having reservations.

"If it doesn't, then you might have to murder Williams," I said with a grin.

Ranger shook his head, grabbing our jackets as he guided me out the door. "Babe."

###

I met Williams at a restaurant called Dirty Habit. With a name like that, I had high hopes the walls would be made out of chocolate. Or at the very least have a wait staff dressed like Chippendales dancers. But alas, the name was just the first in a long list of disappointments for the evening.

The second was Williams. Not that there was much hope for him anyway since he recruited girls and women to be part of an unscrupulous prostitution ring. But even all that aside, the man was a real bore. Turns out his idea of showing me the sights not listed in the DC brochures was treating me to a fancy dinner-sans dessert (disappointment number three)-and taking me to a few night clubs that catered to a ritzier clientele. Big whoop.

Several times over the course of the evening I found myself fighting the thought that if I wanted to be wined and dined with the fancy stuff, I could've just gone on a date with Ranger. At least then I wouldn't have had to feign interest in mundane crap like politics and Dateline. Of course, Ranger wasn't always the best conversationalist either, but at least he knew when not to talk. Silence with Ranger was comfortable. At least most of the time.

The hours passed, and I found myself nearing the high stakes round of our game. I needed Williams to invite me back to his place for a nightcap. Or at the very least get us somewhere we could have some privacy. The evening's success and my screwball plan kind of depended on it.

With that in mind, I paid him extra attention as the night wore on. Touching the back of his calf with my toe as we sipped drinks at the bar. Giving him a flirty laugh when he made his dorky jokes. Pressing as close as I dared against him when we were out on the dance floor.

Given the dilated look in his eyes, I'd say my feminine wiles were hitting their mark.

"You know, you're not who I thought you were going to be," Williams said once we were back at the bar.

Uh oh. Hopefully that wasn't a bad thing.

"Oh?" I asked, grinning seductively over my wine glass.

"That's not meant as an insult," he added as a quick save. "There's just more substance to you than I was expecting."

I crinkled my nose. Substance? Seriously? "No offense, Williams, but no girl likes being called substantial."

He shook his head. "Sorry. That came out all wrong. Will you let me make it up to you?"

Bingo. Things were heading in the right direction again. A few more strategic moves, and I'd have Williams in the bag.

I glanced up at him through flirty eyelashes. "Depends."

"On?"

His eyes held mine as I leaned forward a little, purposely exposing even more of my enhanced cleavage. Suddenly my eyes weren't all that interesting anymore. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

"You wanna find out?"

Oh boy, did I.

I slid off the barstool and grabbed my jacket, following Williams through the crowd. We paused at the curb out front, and Williams hailed a cab.

"Are we heading to dessert now?" I asked.

A cab pulled up along the sidewalk and Williams slid in next to me, resting a not-so-subtle hand on my thigh. "You could say that," he said, flashing me a sleazy Cheshire cat grin.

Good thing Ranger wasn't here. That hand would probably be a limp pile of broken bones by now.

Williams rattled off an address to the driver that I sent in a subtle text to Daddy Whorebucks. You know, just in case things got a little dicey with Mr. Handsy. I'd limited myself to a glass and a half of wine on the date, but I knew I was a cheap drunk. The details of my surroundings were already running a little soft around the edges, and I had a feeling my reaction time might be on the sluggish side. Not the best combo for keeping a persistent man at bay. Which, ironically, is probably just how he wanted me. The thought gave me a bad taste in my mouth.

We pulled up to some fancy high-rise apartments a few minutes later, and when I got out of the cab, I took a step back to admire the architecture. It was well past midnight, but even in the dark I could tell the place oozed that whole "new money" feel.

Williams rocked back on his heels, obviously enjoying my reaction. "Nice place, huh?"

"I'll say."

"Wait 'til you see the inside." He extended his elbow to me as we made our way up to the entrance.

My heart did a little flip-flop when Williams keyed in his access code at the main door. I hadn't stopped to consider the apartment security features in place. Ranger didn't usually have problems with the minor inconveniences like door locks and slide chains, but I'd never seen him hack an access code before. Hopefully that wasn't going to be a problem.

We took the elevator up to the fifth floor and stopped in front of a placard with 510 scripted in gold. Williams' hands trembled slightly as he dug around for his keys and unlocked the door. Maybe the anticipation of a night with a sex goddess was getting to him. I don't know why, but I felt a little guilty I wasn't going to live up to expectations. False advertising was one of my major pet peeves, and even though the motives were noble, I didn't like having to market something I never intended to sell.

Williams took my jacket in the entryway like a gentleman, but the look he gave me after that was anything but. I decided to buy myself some time by hitting the little ladies room.

"The wine's really getting to me," I said. "Do you have a room I could freshen up in?"

My host directed me to a small bathroom just off of the main entryway. It was clean and plush and gorgeous, but I wasn't really interested in the amenities. I whipped out my phone and dialed Ranger.

"Hey," I whispered when the line connected. "Where are you?"

"Parking the car. Why? Is this an emergency?"

"It could turn into one. There's a key code at the main door. Do your unlocking abilities extend to electronic devices?"

"No."

 _No?_

"But I should be able to remedy that situation."

I wasn't very fond of the word "should," but I figured if anyone knew what they were doing in a situation like this, it was probably Ranger.

"Awesome. And no pressure or anything, but I'd appreciate it if you showed up sooner than later. I think I had a little too much to drink tonight and Williams is eyeing me like dinner."

"Babe."

The call ended, and I figured I was on my own for a while. Probably part of my punishment for not drinking responsibly. I fluffed my hair in the mirror and reapplied some lipstick before heading back out to the entryway. Williams was waiting for me with a lazy smile and an open bottle of tequila. Yikes.

"What do you say we get the real party started?"

Gulp.

"Actually," I said, taking a few hesitant steps back. "I thought maybe we could discuss our…relationship."

Williams set the tequila down and grabbed my hand, pulling me over to him. He toyed with the straps on my dress. "I thought maybe we could discuss that over breakfast." His lips brushed my shoulder, and I tried not to cringe.

"That's thoughtful of you. And I appreciate the gesture and all, but I think you'd really like to know what I have to offer here."

"Oh, I think I know what you have to offer." He leaned in to kiss me, but I backed away.

"Ah, ah," I reprimanded him. "I've got a proposition for you."

Williams grinned, obviously enjoying the game of hard to get. "That's usually my line, sweetheart." He backed me up against the wall, and my breath caught. "Maybe we should skip the tequila and move straight to dessert."

I was just about to protest when I noticed the sudden change in air pressure. Williams must have noticed it too because he stopped what he was doing and spun around. A dark, muscular form stood in the open doorway.

"Who the hell are you?" Williams growled.

"J. J. Hombre," Ranger said, stepping out of the shadows. "And you've got something that belongs to me."

I breathed out a sigh of relief. Saved by the pimp.


	31. Chapter 31

I have a confession. I may have dozed off a little while Ranger and Williams had their "discussion." In my defense, the confrontation was quieter than I expected. No bodies crashed through the windows. There weren't any Chuck Norris or WWE smack down scenarios. No broken bones or bloody noses. And strangest of all, no yelling. In fact, the quiet murmuring between the men was kind of soothing. Considering the subject matter, it should have been unsettling, but the wine was making everything sound like Braham's lullaby. Hence why I probably fell asleep.

One second I was the epitome of a captive audience, and the next Ranger was pulling me to my feet and ushering me out of the apartment. I yawned as he opened the car door for me.

"Babe," he said, shaking his head.

"It was warm in there," I said in protest.

"And you're a cheap drunk."

"And I'm a cheap drunk," I agreed, giving him a goofy grin. He sighed and closed my door. It was probably my imagination, but I'm pretty sure I heard him laugh as he walked around the car. I guess cheap drunks can be pretty amusing.

"I take it things went well," I added as he slid into the driver's seat.

"More or less."

"Well?" I prodded.

"Well what?"

"Which was it? More? Or Less?"

He glanced over at me. "I think we've got the beginnings of the scene you were hoping to create. Williams agreed to spread the word about my business with a little monetary incentive, and Hector's already been working on some fake client lists and a webpage." Ranger pulled out his phone and tossed it over to me.

"Hombre's Honeys?!" I snickered. "That's the lamest call girl service I've ever heard of!"

"What? Would you have preferred Daddy Whorebucks' Little Orphans instead?"

"Ugh! No! That's even worse!"

Ranger shrugged. "It doesn't matter. It only has to appear like a profitable business, and I think Hector's got that taken care of. Then with Williams in play, we can start stepping on toes and creating that scene you envisioned. With any luck, I'll either get an invitation for drinks…" He trailed off.

"Or?"

"Or I'll get an offer I can't refuse."

His impression of the line from the Godfather made me snicker. "That's awful!"

"Good thing I'm posing as a pimp then and not a mafia don," he smirked.

"Yeah. Good thing."

Our eyes held a moment as we savored the unspoken comradery. Like we were back in Trenton celebrating a successful distraction. The look in his eyes made my heart clench.

This part had always been so easy. One of the fundamental elements that came with our irrefutable chemistry. Ranger was the kind of guy I'd follow into a burning building if he asked. With zero hesitation. I'd jump out of windows, let go of his hand, and pull the parachute chord on his command. I was that confident he wouldn't let me down.

In fact, I'm not sure I've ever trusted someone so implicitly.

And that was the dangerous part. I'd trusted him so much that I'd forgotten all the barriers he had in place. I'd forgotten he was a man who didn't do relationships. He was a man who couldn't-or wouldn't-fall in love. And worst of all, I'd forgotten he was never mine.

I heaved a sigh.

"What's wrong?"

I had a hunch based on his expression that he already knew the answer, but the moon was too high and my eyelids too heavy for a discussion of that magnitude. We'd get around to that later. Maybe.

"I think I'm just tired. Fighting off Williams this evening was exhausting."

Ranger kept his eyes on the road. "I would've thought you were used to that sort of thing."

I made a face. What was _that_ supposed to mean? "I don't generally make a habit of interacting with scummy men, if that's what you were implying. My standards are a little higher than that."

"I just meant you're one of those people who's hard not to notice."

"You mean because disaster tends to stick to me like white on rice?" I snorted.

"That too."

Oh. I was just about to respond with a witty comeback when Ranger's phone rang. He glanced at the caller and answered. Ten seconds later we were hopping back on the freeway and heading north.

"Who was that?" I asked feeling my spidey sense start to hum.

"Izzy." All the soft faded from Ranger's expression. Something wasn't right.

"Is she okay?"

"They just found the roommate of the girl she's been looking for."

"That's good news, isn't it? Maybe she'll know something about…"

"The news isn't good, babe. The forensics team is playing humpty dumpty with her body parts."

My stomach dropped. It took a moment for me to move past the visuals. "Why'd Izzy call you?"

"It seems the killer left a calling card. She thought it resembled a case I was helping the feds with several years ago."

My eyes widened. "You worked with the feds?"

"Our paths cross on occasion. Sometimes we have mutual goals."

I let that sink in a moment. "Wow. Do you have one of those cool badges?"

"No."

"Access to national secrets?"

"No."

"I think you got ripped off."

Ranger's mouth twitched. "I have security clearance when I need it."

I gave him a look. "Security clearance? Seriously? That's like saying you went to the doctor's office and got a free Band-Aid. Big whoop."

His smile broke through. "Maybe next time I'll bring you along to negotiate my contract."

I glanced down and dusted my fingernails on my shoulder. "Sorry, but I doubt you could afford me. My negotiating skills are legendary." My negotiating skills were crap. My lying skills, however…

"Weren't you asleep thirty minutes ago?" Ranger asked, his eyes bright with amusement.

"I think I got my second wind." I stretched my arms above my head and shook out my stiff limbs. "Besides, my spidey sense is tingling. It's hard to sleep with it humming like that."

"Babe."

We pulled into a shipping yard a short time later, and I glanced around. "This looks like the kind of place you might find a hockey-mask wearing, chainsaw wielding psychopath playing a round of poker with the swamp thing."

Ranger scanned the lot. "Stay alert. The chainsaw part might not be inaccurate."

Ew! "Thanks," I droned. "You know, since my heebie-jeebie levels weren't high enough already."

We got out of the car, and Ranger tossed me something. I shrieked like he'd just asked me to play catch with a tarantula.

"It's a t-shirt."

I shook it out. "Oh. Right. I think the giant bug that was on it must have flown away."

Ranger walked over and tugged the shirt over my head. It landed mid-thigh. A few inches beyond my current dress hem. Funny. I forgot I was still wearing the slutty piece of fabric.

"There wasn't a bug."

"What are you, the bug police?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me along behind him toward one of the warehouse buildings where a few cop cars and a forensics van were gathered out front. Such fun.

"I feel like a moron," I grumbled as I stumbled along behind the man who moved at a clip shy of a speeding bullet.

"Moron's better than the alternative."

"Says the man who doesn't have to walk around wearing a tent."

Ranger stopped and pulled off his belt. My heart skittered around in my chest wondering if he was about to spank me or ruin me for all other men. I squeaked when he took a step closer.

"Is that better?"

I opened my eyes to find that the belt had magically found its way around my middle. "Eh," I said, glancing down at the new fashion statement. "It's not great."

"Do you have to complain about everything?"

"Yes?"

There was a brief look like maybe Ranger was wondering why he put up with me, but it disappeared faster than it came. "Come on," he added, grabbing my wrist again. "Izzy's waiting."

We made our way into the building, and I realized my state of dress was inconsequential. No one would remember the girl wearing the belt-cinched t-shirt. Because it was the state of the deceased girl in the room that made the lasting impression.


	32. Chapter 32

_A/N: For Michelle. Because at least there's always time for reading ;) And for all of you that have been super patient with the updates for this story. Thanks for the commitment. Having readers makes the writing worth while. Now...on with the story!_

"Oh boy," I groaned. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

The room started spinning as a warm hand gripped the back of my neck, shoving my head between my knees. "Breathe, babe. Deep breaths."

I wanted to breathe. I really did. But my brain thought hyperventilating was the better choice at the moment. It had a pretty valid argument too. Bodies weren't supposed to look like that.

"Tell her if she barfs, it'll contaminate the crime scene," a familiar voice said from above.

Black shoes suddenly came into focus next to mine. Runners not heels. I had a hunch it was Izzy.

The pressure let up behind my neck, and I slowly righted myself. "I wasn't going to barf," I said, only partially believing my own statement. It was possible at this point the uncomfortable, queasy feeling could still go either way.

"Yeah. Like I'm gonna believe that, sweetheart. You look greener than a douglas fir at Christmastime."

I fought back the urge to stick my tongue out in retaliation. Mostly because it probably wouldn't have been very professional. But also because I was a little worried if my tongue came out, my dinner might join it.

"Wanna wait outside?" Ranger asked diplomatically. "Things in here seem like they're starting to wrap up anyway."

I wanted to say "no." To stand my ground on the whole I-can-handle-this front, but I knew deep down it was a losing battle. If I caught one more glimpse of that disfigured body, I was totally screwed.

"Maybe I could check for evidence outside," I offered, trying like hell not to sound like the wimpy, queasy-stomached chicken I knew I was.

"What for?" Izzy blurted. "You think we haven't already cased this place? What are you gonna find that we haven't? Are you the crime scene whisperer or something?"

Ranger's mouth twitched. "Steph's got a lucky streak when it comes to these kinds of things. I wouldn't discount her abilities just yet."

"Whatever," Izzy muttered as she stormed off to rejoin the CSI crew.

I gave Ranger a smile of gratitude. "You don't really think I'm going to find anything outside, do you? That was just a ploy to get Izzy off my back?"

Ranger shrugged. "Stranger things have been known to happen, babe. We both know that lucky streak of yours isn't a lie, so do me a favor and don't wander off too far, okay? I can only stomach so much blood and guts in one night."

I gave him the obligatory eye roll as I headed for the door, hearing a subtle "babe" as I disappeared into the darkness. Some things never change.

There was a definite chill in the air when I took my post outside, making me wish I'd thought to wear more on my date than a slutty strip of fabric. The metal of the surrounding buildings creaked and groaned in the shadows, sending a shiver up my spine. It was probably just the wind. Or at least that's what I'd keep telling myself.

I also kept telling myself Batman was just inside the door. So in the unlikely event the grim reaper suddenly appeared in the shadows hoping to chop me up into fish bait, there'd be some major hell to pay before he actually succeeded. Although the thought wasn't nearly as comforting as I was hoping it would be. The grim reaper wasn't high on the list of people I'd want to encounter in a place like this. Period. With or without Batman backup.

Thinking about things lurking in the shadows made my heartrate kick up a notch or five, so I tried to distract myself with other sobering thoughts. Like the fact I'd missed out on mind-blowing sex earlier this evening. What was up with that anyway? In the past it had always been if I gave Ranger even a centimeter, he'd always take the mile. Here I'd finally given him the mile, and he'd pulled back like he'd suddenly found out I was married or something.

Wait. There wasn't any reason for him to think that, right? I mean, I wasn't sporting bling on my finger, and my name was the only one associated with my address. Nah. I doubt Batman thought I was married.

In fact, I kind of already knew what he wanted to talk about. I was just hoping if I pretended hard enough, the problem would just magically disappear. And maybe have the decency to take Ranger with it.

Ah, Ranger. Why did he have to be so damn perfect anyway? Except he wasn't really perfect, was he? The man had his flaws. Things like taking his job too seriously and not properly enjoying the inherent fabulousness of dessert. Those probably would have been deal breakers with anyone else.

But they hadn't been with him. In fact, they were practically endearing qualities now. _Because_ they were intrinsically Ranger. And being around him always felt balanced and natural and a whole bunch of other things I'd never really noticed before.

Okay, I'd noticed. Actually, I was still trying to forget the fact that I'd noticed because even though Ranger and I melded together better than peanut butter and jelly, things were…complicated. He was complicated. Maybe I was complicated too. Wait. Shouldn't two complicated's equal an easy? Wasn't that how the math always worked? Yeah, except I was never really any good at math. Maybe _that_ was my problem. Was that my problem?

I was still trying to figure things out when someone snuck up behind me. Thankfully it wasn't the grim reaper.

"Mind if I ask you a few questions?" asked a young woman in a CSI shirt.

"Uh, sure. Yeah. I guess that would be okay. What do you want to know?"

Her features were soft, but her eyes were intense, and she didn't look like she quite fit the prototypical CSI model. Eh, who was I to judge? I never fit the prototypical bounty hunter model either.

"Why are you here tonight? Did you know the victim?" she asked.

My eyebrows crinkled in confusion. "Can't say that I did. Why do you ask?"

She glanced over my shoulder like she was keeping an eye on the door. "You don't fit in with everyone else in there. And rumor has it your face has been popping up around town lately. And not in a good way, if you catch my drift. I'd keep my nose out of it if I were you. These are dangerous times."

Wow, I thought. Word really spreads fast in DC.

"The girl in there," I started. "She's linked to…well, I think she's pretty important. And I'm kind of looking into…"

There was a sudden commotion behind me as a slew of cops and CSI came out of the building. Izzy and Ranger shook some hands before heading my way, and I turned to finish up my conversation with the CSI girl. Except it was then that I realized she'd gone and pulled a Batman on me. Why was everyone always doing that?

"Find anything useful out here, babe?" Ranger asked.

"Yeah, no. Not really."

Izzy rolled her eyes. "Gee, why am I not surprised."

I decided to ignore the snarky comment. "I was just talking with one of the CSI team about the victim actually, but our conversation got cut short. I didn't really get the chance to root out anything of particular interest. How did you two fair inside?"

"It's not looking good," Ranger said. "I'll fill you in more on the drive back to the hotel." He grabbed my hand as he bid Izzy goodnight. We walked back through the maze of buildings to where Ranger had parked the car.

"That bad, huh?" I asked as I buckled myself in.

Ranger thought for a moment. "On a scale of one to ten, how pissed would you be if I asked you to fly back to Idaho right now?"

"Probably a twelve."

"Right. Just thought I'd double check."

"Am I going back to Idaho then?"

"Nope. Think I need you here on this one, babe. I just wanted to make sure you were fully aware of the intensity of the situation. Based on what I saw back there, things just got a lot more complicated."

Oh boy.

Ranger's phone buzzed in his pocket as we turned onto the main road, and he tossed it over to me. "That should be a file from Izzy on the roommate. Can you open it? I need to verify some information."

I punched some buttons and somehow managed to open the file. Then my blood ran cold.

"Babe? What's wrong? You look white as a sheet."

I stared at the screen in my hand, the face of the newly deceased girl staring back at me. "Is this the roommate?" I asked, showing Ranger the picture from the file.

He gave a nod.

"Oh my gosh. You're not going to believe this, but I think I just saw a ghost."


	33. Chapter 33

"Babe."

My hands began to shake as I passed off the phone. I slid them under my thighs, hoping to dampen my momentary freak-out session, but it wasn't super effective. My body continued to convulse with the post-ghost shivers. Had I really just seen what I thought I saw?

Ranger's voice pulled me from my mental recap of the evening. "This isn't just a byproduct of your notoriously overactive imagination, is it?" he asked.

I narrowed my eyes. "First off, I do not have an _overactive_ imagination. I have a very healthy sense of self-preservation, thank you very much."

Ranger shot me his equivalent of the "yeah right" expression.

"And second," I continued, feeling my defensiveness peak. "I'm not some five-year-old scared of the bogeyman. I know what I saw back there."

At least I thought I knew what I saw. Although the more I thought about it, the more Ranger may have had a point. The creepy warehouses had spooked me more than they should have. There was no denying that. And the grisly murder had definitely set me on edge.

Maybe my mind _was_ just playing tricks. Maybe the CSI girl had only _resembled_ the dead roommate. Brown hair and brown eyes were pretty generic features, and I hadn't gotten the best look at either of them. Not really, anyway.

"Hypothetically, what happens if I _did_ see a ghost?" I asked.

Ranger shrugged. "We hook you up with the first available fortune teller and get the ghost to tell you who was responsible for the murder."

"Seriously? I doubt a ghost's testimony would be permissible in court, and…"

Ranger's mouth twitched.

"That was a joke, wasn't it?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

"Yeah."

"I'll bet your stand-up routine really brings down the house at the nightclubs," I grumbled.

Ranger flashed me a grin. Had I not been so annoyed with him at the moment, it might have been one of those grins that made my tummy go all squishy. Okay, it may have done that anyway.

"And if the ghost wasn't really a ghost?" I prodded.

"You mean, if it was all just a figment of your imagination?"

"No! Jeez! I mean, what if I'd really been talking to the roommate!"

Good news. My hands had definitely stopped shaking. But now they were flapping around like a deranged, agitated chicken. Italian style. A reaction made 100% worse by the fact Ranger looked as if he was fighting back a laugh.

"This is not funny," I growled, jabbing him in the arm with my finger. "It could be really important. What if…" I narrowed my eyes. "You know what? Turn the car around. We're going back to the crime scene."

"I smell something burning, babe. What exactly do you intend to do?"

"Jump out of this car like they do in the movies if you don't turn this damn vehicle around right now."

Ranger glanced over and did one of his split-second assessments before cranking the wheel into a hard U-turn. Twenty minutes later we were back on the set of the next blockbuster drug bust. I sat in the car a moment, debating why I'd thought this was a good idea.

And of course, Ranger was busy reading my mind. "Having second thoughts, Nancy Drew?"

"No," I shot back. "It's cold out there. I was just debating how not to freeze my ass off. I'm not exactly dressed for the weather, remember?"

Thankfully Ranger's comment had given me the gusto needed to avoid chickening out at the last minute. I reached for the door handle and was halfway outside when I felt my body yanked backward at the last second. Ranger's lips came crashing down on mine, and I felt a rush of heat so intense, I swear I almost burst into flame.

Holy crap.

Twenty seconds later I definitely wasn't worried about the cold anymore. In fact, the only worry on my mind was that I wasn't going to get out of my clothes fast enough. Too bad Ranger and I seemed to be holding differing opinions as to what was next on the night's agenda.

"Better?" Ranger asked, pulling away.

I stared at him in a daze trying like hell to remember what his question was referring to. Better. Better. Better than what? The haze slowly started to clear, and I remembered I'd been complaining about the cold. Yeah. Definitely not cold anymore.

I righted myself and tried to tactfully remove my death-grip on Ranger's shirt, but I had a feeling I'd lost the whole tact option the moment my other hand had shamelessly slid up his thigh. Ranger glanced down and grinned.

Damn.

"I…uh…thought my keys slipped down the seat," I attempted by way of explanation.

Ranger's mouth twitched, and his eyes dilated when I didn't remove my hand right away. Double damn. Then he leaned down and brushed a seductive kiss to my thigh. I felt another surge of heat followed by what sounded like a strangled whimper. It may have been me.

"These keys?" Ranger asked, dangling a keyring in front of me when I finally dared to open my eyes again.

"Oh. You found them."

"I did," he smirked. "In your clutch. Right where you left them."

Right. There goes that lie. "Silly me."

"Silly you."

The sexual tension in the car was still growing by leaps and bounds, so I decided to cut my losses and make a quick exit. "I'm going to go take a look around outside," I said, mostly to pull myself away from imminent danger.

"Good plan. I'll meet you out there once I've had a chance to take a closer look at the file."

Okey doke then.

I angled out of the car and made my way back to the spot where I'd supposedly last seen the dead roommate. Good news-or maybe bad depending on how you wanted to look at it-she wasn't waiting there for me.

That was fine. No big deal. Maybe she was just waiting to make a grand, ghostly entrance or something. I was cool with that. If I were a ghost, I think I'd want to make some pretty big entrances too. I mean, seriously, what else was left for fun if you couldn't properly scare the hell out of people?

The heat from the Ranger kiss was already wearing off, and a chilly east coast breeze cut through the buildings. I wrapped my arms tightly around my waist and tried to ignore the creaking of metal echoing off every surface surrounding me. Then something moved in the shadows, and my breath caught.

A cat-or what I hoped was _not_ an oversized rat-scurried under a chain-link fence, and I choked back a scream. I hated to admit it, but Ranger was right. My imagination was definitely getting the better of me out here. I decided to stick to my post for another five minutes before throwing in the towel. Dignity be damned.

I think I'd lost most of it in the car anyway.

The seconds ticked by at the pace of a lame turtle moving through molasses, and with the onset of frostbite, I was really starting to scold myself for being so stubborn and stupid. There was no way I'd seen a ghost out here anyway. I'd obviously chatted with a CSI and that was all. A living, breathing CSI. It was the murder and surrounding scenery that had made me second guess myself.

Actually, it was my gut that had me second guessing myself. The conversation with the girl still felt weird. It was something about her body language or the fact she kept glancing behind me. She looked young. And a hint of panicky. But why had she talked to me?

Something moved in the shadows again, but this time I didn't scream. Because this time I was distracted by my spidey sense tingling. It looked like my ghost had returned after all.

"Kate," I hiss-whispered into the darkness. "The jig's up. Come on out so we can talk."

Silence.

"I know you're out there."

Something that sounded like the creak of a door echoed from a building around the corner, so I followed the sound. I was just about to open it when a hand on my shoulder made me jump a mile in the air.

"Holy cats, Ranger, don't _do_ that! You scared me half to death!" My heart was pounding so hard, I could feel it in my ears.

Ranger's mouth twitched. "Have any luck finding your ghost?"

I blew out a frustrated breath. "No. And I'm seriously doubting it's a ghost. How did the CSI team know the body belonged to the roommate anyway?"

"A wallet and driver's license were recovered at the scene."

I nodded, allowing the puzzle pieces to start coming together. "What do you wanna bet it's not going to match the DNA of the body they found tonight?"

Ranger tossed me something he'd had wadded up in his hand. "Found this on my way over. Spidey sense strikes again."

I took a moment to shake out the black fabric and found three white letters staring back at me. Note to self: a simple t-shirt with the right insignia can be a really great disguise. Especially in the dark.

"So," I said with a proud smile. "The plot thickens?"

Ranger shook his head, his eyes momentarily crinkling at the corners. "Babe."


	34. Chapter 34

Izzy was waiting for us when we got back to the hotel. Sitting in the room that had definitely been locked earlier. Just chilling in the dark. Guess Ranger wasn't the only Manoso who thought it was fun to play Houdini.

He said his sister's name just prior to hitting the bedside lamp, which was kind of a good thing. I might have wet my pants if I'd encountered a face in the shadows on my way to the bathroom. I jumped anyway when she said his name back, but at least my pants stayed dry. Mostly.

"Hey, Nancy Drew," she said, still amused by my lingering shock. "I hear you found something interesting back at the crime scene."

"Kind of. It was just a shirt."

"Well, yeah. I would've been _really_ impressed if you'd actually found the roommate."

"We looked," I offered, feeling a little defensive.

But the truth was, we hadn't looked all that hard. Well, I hadn't anyway. My teeth were chattering too hard. Pitch blackness is difficult enough to see through without your head shaking like some goofy kids wind-up toy. Ranger sent me back to the car to warm up, and I hadn't even tried to argue. I was that cold.

"You find anything else?" Izzy asked, directing the question to Ranger.

He shook his head.

Izzy considered his response before grabbing her phone and keys off the desk and heading for the door. "I'll be in touch."

"Wait," I said, making her stop mid-stride. "Before you go, I think you should consider keeping this whole thing just between the three of us for now." This earned me a subtle glance from Ranger.

"I wasn't exactly planning on heading to the nearest news station to broadcast it."

"Well, yeah. No. I just mean, Kate went to a lot of trouble for a reason. She's buying time."

"Uh huh." Izzy had the same look my mother always gave me whenever I tried to explain why I kept doing the whole bounty hunter thing. It bugged the hell out of me.

"I think we should give her that time. Besides, she tried to make contact. Maybe if we don't ambush her, she'll try again."

Izzy rolled her eyes. "No offense, Plum, but I've been doing this a hell of a lot longer than you have. When a civilian wants to 'buy time', it's usually because they have some harebrained scheme they think is going to save their ass, but in reality it's much more likely to be their death sentence. They never see all the angles.

She blew out an exasperated breath, and for a moment I caught a glimpse of something very human in her eyes. "I honestly don't know why Kate thought it would be a good idea to fake her death, but I do know the implications aren't good. She and her roommate seem to be caught in the middle of some very scary shit, and I think they found something much more incriminating than we initially thought. I need to find Kate _and_ Anna before this gets out of hand."

Her stone-cold demeanor returned. "You two stay out of trouble."

I snuck a glance at Ranger, wondering if he'd filled her in on the whole "Hombre's Honeys" thing yet. Judging by the quick don't-say-a-word-or-I'll-smother-you-in-your-sleep look he shot me, Izzy was probably still in the dark. I took the not-so-subtle hint and decided not to tattle.

"I will if he will," I said in an attempt to lighten the mood. Except too bad for me, nobody else thought the joke was funny.

Izzy muttered something Jersey-approved under her breath before making her leave. Then Ranger started peeling off his clothes.

"Whoa. What are you doing?" I asked, trying to hide my eyes behind my hand. But the hand wasn't being very compliant. It kept insisting I should sneak a peek, and it's kind of hard to argue with hand-logic. So I snuck a peek.

"Taking a shower."

Right. I forgot Ranger didn't have self-image problems. He could probably walk naked into the Louvre without batting an eye. Of course, no one else would either. They'd all just assume he was one of the sculptures on display. Chiseled perfection.

I did what I hoped was a subtle check for drool as I tried to busy myself with papers on the desk in hopes the hormonal urge to join Ranger in the shower would go away. It didn't work very well.

Damn, he was really wearing me down. And I had no idea if he was doing it all on purpose, or if this was just the natural course of things when we spent prolonged time in each other's stratospheres.

That was a frightening thought. Probably why my brain had initiated the whole relocation project to Idaho. It knew enough about self-preservation to put most of a country between us. Guess my brain was pretty smart sometimes. And my hormones were dumb as a rock.

I assumed my heart fell somewhere in the middle, but I honestly hadn't checked in with it for a while. I was too worried I'd still find it in recovery mode. Or worse.

"Babe?" Ranger was standing across the room in a low-slung towel looking at me like I'd just sprouted two heads.

"Yes?"

"You haven't moved an inch since I hopped in the shower."

I shrugged. "You take unusually fast showers."

His mouth twitched. "Not _always_."

True.

"Stephanie. About that talk."

I shook my head and almost laughed. "It's after three in the morning, and you want to do this _now_?"

"I'm not sure it can wait any longer." His eyes locked with mine, and time seemed to stand still.

"It's _waited_ two years."

"A foolish mistake, I can assure you."

A mistake? It wasn't a mistake. It was an on purpose. But more than that, it was survival.

I swallowed back the lump that had inconveniently lodged itself in my throat. "I'm really tired," I choked out. "Can it wait a little longer?"

Ranger gave a slow now. "It can. For now." He pulled on some clothes from his duffel bag and started lacing up his boots.

"Where are you going? Didn't you hear me say what time it is?"

His mouth twitched. "No rest for the wicked, babe."

"You're going out?! Now?"

"Just for a little while. I've got some toes to step on, remember?"

"But what about sleep? You're not a robot, you know." Although admittedly it was sometimes hard to tell.

He shrugged. "I'll catch a few hours when I get back. Unless…"

"Unless what?"

"Unless you're still up. If you're awake, we're having that conversation. I don't care what time it is."

Gulp.

He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. "Guess I'll see you when I see you. Oh, and do me a favor and try not to have any harebrained ideas while I'm gone."

I shot him a dirty look just before he shut the door. Then I headed for the shower. With any luck the steam and soap would relax me enough to lull me into a nice, deep sleep. And if that didn't work, I'd hit the pharmaceuticals. I wanted to be well into my REM cycles when Ranger returned.

My heart and I still needed to have a chat before any other major conversations took place, and given the state of things the last time I paid a visit to my broken-heart recovery ward, I was worried how everything was going to go. There had been some pretty extensive damage in the past. And given the tempest of feelings I'd been having over the last several days, the potential for further damage was running pretty high.

I needed a game plan. But it was three in the morning, and my game plans were long gone. Both the good and the bad ones. So for now I was content playing the chicken and burying my problems under pillows and blankets. And if I was really lucky, Ranger would have an unfortunate bout of amnesia and forget all about our little conversation for the remainder of the trip. A foolish girl could dream, right?

 _A/N: Happy Thanksgiving to all my readers who celebrate! And for all my other readers, Happy Thursday! I'm incredibly thankful for all of you and feel particularly blessed to have gotten to know some of you so well through fanfiction. Such a wonderful community of creative minds and readers. A family all its own :)_


	35. Chapter 35

The next morning I woke to the smell of coffee. The good stuff too. I sniffed the air and followed my nose to the nightstand where a fancy to-go cup was waiting. I took a slow sip and felt my mouth curl into a satisfied smile. Ranger was a saint.

"It might be cold now."

The unexpected voice made me almost jump out of my skin. I flipped over in the bed to find Izzy Manoso sitting at the desk, typing away on her laptop and clearly unfazed by my look of shock.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. "Shouldn't you be out terrorizing other unsuspecting victims?" I wanted to add but didn't. She gave me a smile just shy of a sneer anyway, which made me wonder if the mind-reading thing was a genetic trait.

"Ranger wanted me to ride around the warehouse area with you today. Said something about spidey senses and bloodhound mode. Know anything about that? Maybe some kind of secret code or something?"

"Kind of." Something told me trying to explain my spidey sense to Izzy was going to make me look like a doofus, and I tried to avoid those "doofus" moments as much as humanly possible. Especially around people like Izzy. I had a feeling she was already mocking me behind my back, so I probably didn't need to add any fuel to _that_ fire.

Izzy shut her laptop and hopped to her feet. "Great. Let's get going then. You can fill me in on this whole 'coded message' business on the way."

"Uh…"

"What are you waiting for, Plum. Daylight's burning."

I glanced down. "Do I have time to get dressed?"

She gave me a look. "I sure hope so. You weren't planning on going out looking like _that,_ were you?"

"Well, I wasn't _planning_ on it. You just made everything seem really…urgent."

"It is." She was looking at me like my mother always did whenever I was still tugging on my socks with the school bus honking impatiently outside.

"I'll just go get dressed then," I said, awkwardly sliding off the bed.

"Good plan."

I slipped into the bathroom and locked the door. It was probably a useless gesture given the genetic makeup of the other occupant in the room, but whatever. I stripped and tugged on some clean underwear making sure they were the more comfortable variety and not too sexy. Just in case I bumped into Ranger later. Then I pulled on a sweater and jeans to polish off the classic Stephanie Plum look.

I shot off a quick text to Ranger saying how exciting Izzy was in the morning before attempting to tame my hair into a frizzy ponytail. The reply came as I finished swiping on a few confidence-boosting coats of mascara.

"Have fun," he said.

I rolled my eyes and shot back another text. "What, no 'babe?'"

"Babe."

That guy was funny. Even operating on even less sleep than I was. Which reminded me he hadn't made it back for our "talk." Must have been pretty busy building his cover. Hopefully the coffee fairy had left him some liquid perkiness this morning too. He probably deserved it more than I did.

I headed out into the room and grabbed my shoulder bag. "Think I need anything special for our little outing today?"

"You got any big, fashionable sunglasses?"

"Already in the…" I started to reply.

"And maybe a nail file and some polish so we could paint each other's toenails while we sit in the car and wait for a miracle to drop in our lap."

"I seem to sense some sarcasm here," I deadpanned.

"Gee, nothing gets past you, does it?" Izzy rolled her eyes as she headed for the door. "Sometime today would be nice, Plum. You can tie your shoelaces when we get out to the car."

I tried to ignore her look of annoyance as I breezed past her out into the hallway. I knew I should've packed my slip-ons.

###

Izzy made up for some of her morning bitchiness by swinging by a local drive thru for breakfast sandwiches. Her ability to wolf down two bacon, egg, and cheese muffins without a second thought was kind of amazing. I watched in stunned silence as she downed an orange juice followed by a hashbrown patty chaser.

"Don't you feel guilty eating all that?" I asked stupidly.

"Eating all what?"

" _That,"_ I replied, pointing to all the empty wrappers.

"No. I was hungry. I ate. What's there to be guilty about?"

It was a good question. According to her body, there was nothing to be guilty about. She was fit and toned and quite stunning actually. As were all the other Manosos, I assumed.

"But you just ate a lot of junk," I stammered.

"You did too."

Yeah. I did. But the top snap on my jeans was also opened right now. Ill-fitting clothing happened to me more frequently than I wanted to admit, and from where I was sitting, Izzy Manoso didn't really have that problem. The universe was so unfair.

"What's your secret?" I asked, still staring at her in amazement.

She glanced over and twitched a small smile. "Everything in moderation, I guess."

"You call _that_ moderation? You're kidding, right?"

"I already told you I was hungry. Didn't get to dinner last night thanks to the whole dead body thing, and I also ran three miles this morning. I figure my whole calorie input/output business balances out somewhere."

"So it's not just some freakishly good metabolism thing?"

She shrugged. "Could be some of that too. The Manoso women tend to run on the slender side."

Of course they did.

I took a sip of my orange juice and scanned the scenery passing by outside wondering if it was too early for alcohol.

"So what's the deal with you and my brother?" Izzy asked suddenly, causing me to sputter on my drink.

I coughed and wheezed for a moment until everything settled. Then I played dumb. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"You and my brother. What's going on with you two?" She stared me down like I'd just been tossed in an interrogation room on suspicion of murder in the first degree.

"We used to work together," I offered, hoping that was enough to appease Miss Idle Curiosity.

"Yeah, well that's weird too. Ranger usually works with a bunch of muscular men." Her eyebrows raised a little as if she'd had a sudden epiphany. "Whoa. You didn't used to be a dude, did you?"

"What? No! Do I _look_ like a dude?"

She shrugged.

"I am _not_ a dude, okay? 100% female. Definitely got all the lady parts to prove it."

Izzy quirked an eyebrow. "You use that line on Ranger?"

Ugh! "No! Ranger and I worked together a long time ago. End of story."

"And you slept together," Izzy added nonchalantly as she parked the car.

I wanted to lie and just say no, but my Catholic guilt problem made that a bit of a challenge. I'd _totally_ slept with Ranger. Maybe not consistently or at all over the last two years, but saying no would've definitely been a lie. So I went with plan B instead. Answering a question with another question.

"What makes you say that?"

Izzy went to open her door. "You're kidding, right?"

"No?"

She laughed. "You lick your lips whenever he stretches."

Crap. Did I really do that? I knew I used to, but I figured I'd reigned in some of those hormonal slip-ups during our time apart. Apparently not…

"No I don't," I argued. "I just suffer from dry lips." I fished in my shoulder bag for my lip gloss. "See? I have to use this stuff like all the time. Driest lips on the planet."

Izzy rolled her eyes. "Even if that were true, which it totally isn't, I still have reason to believe you've slept with my brother."

"Oh yeah, and why's that?"

She shrugged. "He told me."

Wait. _What_?!

"But we're gonna have to table that conversation for later. I need you focused on the mission at hand."

Mission? It was then I realized we weren't parked near all the warehouses from the night before. We were parked outside a row of rundown apartment complexes instead.

"Where are we?" I asked. "I thought we were supposed to be heading back to the creepy warehouses."

Izzy grabbed some things from the back seat. "My brother has a lot of confidence in your…abilities. I really want to assume his judgement has been clouded by the fact he looks at you like dinner, but I've never been able to refute his assessment of people. So prove him right. Show me you're not just some convenient booty call while he's helping me out."

I shot her a dirty glare as I got out of the car. "Not that it's any of your business, but for the record, I've given zero booty on this trip. It's been strictly professional." Of course, I conveniently left out the fact that if Ranger had a smidgen less of his legendary self-control, that statement would've been null and void as of yesterday.

Izzy stared at me over the car then her mouth twitched a smile. "Like I'm gonna believe that. Coworkers usually have separate hotel rooms."

This turn in the conversation was making me uncomfortable, so I decided to change the subject. "Didn't you say we had some kind of mission here?"

She glanced up at the apartments. "This is the address listed for the girls. I want you to come inside and have a look around. Maybe chat with some neighbors too. I want to know who's been in and out of here lately, and if we're really lucky, I'm hoping to find some clue as to where the girls might be hiding."

I followed her up the steps to the main entrance. "That might be a pretty tall order, don't you think?"

She shrugged. "Not according to my brother. He seems to think you're Wonder Woman or something."

The compliment was high praise indeed even if it was nowhere near the truth. It made me curious as to what else Ranger had said about me to his sister. But judging by the impatient look I was getting from Izzy, if I asked her one more question, she wouldn't think twice about using her gun on me. It wasn't my favorite thought, so I decided to keep quiet and focus on the mission at hand. After all, I had a reputation to live up to. And for some reason I really wanted to live up to Ranger's expectations.


	36. Chapter 36

_A/N: Happy New Year everyone! Hope you all are doing well and enjoying the onset of 2018. Wishing you all the best for the upcoming year, and I hope you enjoy the update :)_

I found it odd that a hooker with pretty high-paying clients would live in such a dumpy place, but I kept those thoughts to myself as Izzy and I made our way up to the top floor. There were some curious stains on the carpet in the hall and some of the overhead light bulbs had gone out, but I guess overall the place wasn't so bad. During my years as a bounty hunter, I'd definitely seen plenty worse.

"They don't pay them in cash," Izzy said, startling me out of my silent assessments.

"What?"

"The call girls. They don't pay them in cash."

"Oh."

My mind was still caught up on other things, so it took me a moment to process the information.

"It's why the girls lived here, you mean," I added. "Why they weren't living it up in a penthouse apartment downtown."

We came to one of the doors, and Izzy fished out a key from her pocket to let us in.

"Right. Their 'directors'—just a fancy term for pimps at these levels—buy them their upscale attire and pay for spa treatments and salon visits to keep them looking their best. They get a meager allowance for daily living, but it's not usually enough to survive on their own. Keeps them from sneaking away unexpectedly."

The thought made my stomach churn. The terrible things people did to each other in the name of financial gain. Prostitution functioned under clever names these days, but once you stripped away all the nuances, it was just another form of slavery, pure and simple. My heart ached for all the women who'd wound up in such terrible circumstances. My heart ached for Lula.

"I stopped by here after the body turned up," Izzy said as she did a quick scan of the room. "The living and bedrooms had been torn apart, but there didn't seem to be any signs of a struggle, so I'm assuming the girls were already gone by the time someone thought to come looking for them."

Well, I knew at least one of the girls had made it out before then. Thanks to the Jacob Marley stunt back at the warehouses, I was pretty sure the "dead" roommate wasn't nearly as dead as she'd led everyone to believe.

"What are we looking for exactly?" I asked, watching Izzy move about the room in a way that made me feel like I'd stepped through Alice's looking glass. Sometimes I swear she and Ranger could be twins.

"Clues, Plum. We're looking for clues. Things that don't fit. Address books. Drugs." She blew out an exasperated sigh. "I know you're probably pretty rusty with all this, but I'm not a fan of chitchat while I'm working, so just use your imagination, okay?"

I resisted the urge to shoot back a salute with a snotty "aye aye, captain" and went about inspecting the kitchen instead. At first glance, it was just a kitchen. A tiny apartment's meager offerings for a space to cook and eat. But on closer inspection, it was a sanctuary.

One or both of the girls truly enjoyed this space. Each cupboard was organized and structured in a way for easy use and access, and the dishes were definitely a grade or two up from what you'd expect in an apartment like this. There was stemware above the sink and a spring form pan under the stove. A Snoopy cookie jar smiled up at me from its home next to the microwave.

A homey Burg kitchen on a much smaller scale.

Someone had good housewife genes. It was a concept that had always evaded me. Probably why I still preferred to do most of my cooking from the microwave.

"Find anything useful in here?" Izzy asked.

I shrugged. "These girls were pretty domestic. Or at least one of them was. Did you get those vibes when you were working with Anna?"

"She was always in her 'work persona' when we met to talk. It's safer to keep things from getting too personal, you know?"

I'd heard something similar coming from another Manoso before.

"Right."

"I know she wanted out though. She was hoping the evidence against these guys would give her a chance to start over. She was very focused on that new life. Probably part of the reason she was so determined to help me."

Since Miss Mindreader was standing next to me, I tried not to think that that determination may have also gotten her killed.

"Whatever you're thinking, I didn't force her into this," Izzy added.

Dang. So much for not thinking those thoughts.

"She was a willing participant. Eager, in fact."

"Why would I think otherwise?"

"You're kidding, right?" Izzy began pulling open some of the drawers and fishing through their contents. "Listen, I'm not finding much in here, so maybe we should start in on some of the neighbors. How do you feel about checking out a few while I finish up in here?"

"Sure. I guess that would be okay."

Chatting up the neighbors was more my speed anyway. Growing up in the Burg meant I could gossip with just about anyone, and I think there was something about my face that gave off "the girl next door" vibe. It was an invaluable trait I used to its full advantage while working as a bounty hunter. That and lying. I could lie with the best of them.

After a quick stop by the bathroom to freshen up my look, I headed over to next door neighbor number one. A cranky old owl with a stained bathrobe greeted me with a sloshing mug of coffee and a scowl. Guess he wasn't a morning person.

"Hi," I offered in my most charming voice. "I'm looking for Anna and Kate. Have you seen them recently?"

His eyes narrowed. "No."

"Oh. Well, it's kind of important. Are you sure you haven't…"

"Riffraff like that don't belong here," he interrupted. "You sluts keep outta this place. We don't need any more trouble 'round here than we already got." The door slammed in my face.

Yeesh. Guess it was no big secret what the girls did for a living. Maybe they'd had some unpleasant visitors lately. Given the background I already knew, this was a fairly reasonable possibility.

I thought about knocking again and using my annoying persistence to get enough of a rise out of the guy to divulge something useful, but my thick skin had softened a little over the years, and I wasn't in the mood to be called a slut again.

On to neighbor number two then.

No one answered that door. It wasn't entirely unexpected considering we were moving into the later hours of the morning now. People probably had jobs to get to. Still, there was no way I was going back to Izzy empty handed, so I continued on down the hall.

Door number three was my personal favorite. Someone high on life. Not to mention drugs. He reminded me a lot of a former classmate of mine, Walter Dunphy, who earned his nickname "Mooner" by being a recreational space cadet. Mooner had been a surprising source of decent information on occasion, so I humored "The Kipster" for a while before determining he wasn't in tune enough with his surroundings to be very useful.

Still, the fruit snack he tossed me "for sustenance" was rather endearing. I liked people who knew the value of a good snack.

Feeling rejuvenated by the small burst of sugar, I continued on to the last door on the right and hoped it'd turn up something good. The "skills" Ranger claimed I had were apparently lying dormant today, and Izzy probably wasn't in the mood to wait around for a stroke of blind luck. I couldn't say I was really either.

The door opened after a brief moment of silence, and I immediately liked who I saw standing in front of me. She was a shorter black woman with white hair and a twinkle in her eye. Her clothes were bright and maybe a little revealing for a woman her age, but I found I liked the tenacity behind the choices. This woman did what she wanted. Didn't care what other people thought.

"Well, hi there," she said with a bright smile. "You must have the wrong door, sweets. The young 'uns live a few doors down."

Bingo.

"You know Anna and Kate?"

"Well sure. They give me fashion tips sometimes and do my makeup when my arthritis starts acting up. Those girls sure know a thing or two about beauty."

I got a sudden flashback of Lula in a poison green tube top and platinum blond hair. Her makeup tips and fashion sense never would've worked on me, but they always seemed to fit her to a T.

"Sounds nice."

"Yeah, but I haven't seen them much around here lately. I figured they must be busy with work."

Considering I didn't know a thing about a hooker's schedule, it seemed like a reasonable assumption. Still, I was hoping for a little more dirt than finding out they played beauty salon with their geriatric neighbor.

"Anna gave me a call the other day," I lied, "and it got me kind of worried. You wouldn't know a good place to find her if she was in trouble, would you?"

"Anna's not really the chatty one," the woman explained. "Kate is. She seems to make friends with just about everyone. Probably why she was asked to watch that little girl for a while."

Little girl? This was an interesting development.

"Kate was watching a little girl?"

The woman's smile broadened. "Cutest little thing. Kate brought her over one afternoon a few days ago."

"Did she say why she had her?"

Her brow crinkled as she considered the question. "I think she said she was a doing a favor for someone. Didn't really give too many details about it though. I just figured she was helping out a friend. Childcare ain't cheap, you know."

I didn't know actually, but that's because the closest thing I ever had to a child was Rex the wonder hamster, and he had been mostly self-sufficient.

"How old was she?" I asked.

"The girl?"

"Yeah."

"Well, if I had to guess, I'd say around two or three maybe. She had this ratty, old teddy bear that she carried around with her everywhere. Called it Beebee or something like that."

I offered a polite smile. The kid was probably nothing. Maybe Kate had a friend that couldn't find a sitter. But the timeline was what was drawing my attention. A few days ago would put us right about when all heck broke loose with these girls. A coincidence? Maybe. But then again, maybe not.

I fished out a scrap of paper and pen from my handbag. "It's really important I find Anna and Kate," I explained to the woman. "If you see either of them or think of something that might help me find them, please let me know. My number's on this paper."

She offered me another warm smile before wishing me luck and heading back inside. I blew out a sigh. I hadn't exactly struck gold here, but maybe I'd stumbled upon a piece of the treasure map. One could hope anyway.

I let myself back into the girls' apartment and found Izzy in one of the bedrooms.

"Find anything useful?" I asked.

"Not as much as I would've liked. You?"

I shrugged. "What are the odds one of these call girls wound up a mother?"

Izzy made a face. "Not real high. They have required medical visits and mandatory birth control. Pimps aren't real big on maternity leave."

Right. "Kate was seen with a little girl the other day. It didn't sound like hers, but I got to wondering about it anyway. What if a girl got pregnant and somehow managed to keep it a secret?"

"That's a pretty big secret, Plum. You pass high school biology?"

Barely. "Yes," I replied with a massive eye roll chaser. "Or here's some food for thought," I continued. "What if the child is evidence somehow? You said yourself this goes pretty high up. What if the girl possesses shared DNA that could blow this whole prostitution thing right out of the water?"

Izzy gave a subtle eyebrow raise at that.

Ha! Take that, Izzy Manoso. Score one for Plum!

"Damn," she muttered, her face settling into a scowl again.

"What now?"

"I owe my brother fifty bucks."


	37. Chapter 37

_A/N: An update! Huzzah! Almost there guys. I can feel the climax approaching. Kudos to anyone who solves the puzzle before Stephanie ;)_

Izzy dropped me back off at my hotel a short while later under the claim she had a meeting to go to with a higher security clearance than a civilian like me would be allowed to attend. Basically code for her babysitting favor for Ranger was now over, and she couldn't wait to get rid of me. Fortunately, the feeling was mutual.

And besides that, I needed to think. Which was a bit of a challenge with Ranger's doppelganger reading my mind all the time. That kind of thing really should come with a warning label.

I used my keycard to let myself into the room, half expecting to find Ranger busy at work at the desk. To my surprise, the space was just how I'd left it several hours ago. Damp towel in the bathroom, clothes dumped haphazardly on top of my bag, and all of Ranger's belongings looking organized and pristine. I "accidentally" bumped one of his shirts off the hanger in the closet. Was it the mature thing to do? Probably not. Satisfying anyway? Definitely more than it should have been.

I flipped on the coffee pot before heading down the hall to the vending machines for some "brain food." It was mildly disappointing to find the selections still on the sparse side, but a Snickers and Reese's seemed decent substitutions for the preferred Tastykakes and cheeseballs. I've definitely substituted worse.

The Snickers was gone before I even made it back to the room, but the Reese's made it halfway through my cup of coffee for which I gave myself a mental pat on the back. The caffeine and sugar rush started to give me that good "brainy" feeling, so I went and sprawled on the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

The addition of a child to the case definitely upped the interesting dynamic factor. A child made things complicated. A child was difficult to hide.

I thought back to a few times I'd run errands with my sister and her brood. Utter chaos would have been polite when describing the experiences. There was fighting and whining and crying, and that was all before we even left the house. Kids are loud and demanding and unpredictable, and I honestly couldn't imagine having to lay low with one.

Where would you go with a kid? Make that a _young_ kid too.

Most motel's had cable TV these days (a no-brainer with a youngster of any age), but even staying at the cheapest of motels could add up pretty quick. Convenience always came at a price.

So what did that leave two scared, broke girls on the run? A friend? A relative? As far as I knew, no relatives lived close by. But then again, Cuban Badass One and Two didn't always keep me in the loop on these kinds of things.

Maybe that was my starting point. Friends and family.

Since I wasn't quite ready to move from my comfy spot on the bed, I made a quick mental note to do some research later and continued thinking. What were other factors that could help narrow down the search? The girls were obviously local—or at least local enough to monitor a fake death situation. That probably kept us in a pretty tight radius. But that was odd too, wasn't it? If I was in a bad situation, especially with a kid, I doubt I'd be hiding anywhere near a potential threat. In fact, I'd be halfway across the country.

What was keeping them here?

I was just on the verge of a breakthrough when an upside-down face suddenly materialized above me.

"Agghh!" I squeaked, grabbing my chest in shock. "Ranger! You scared the crap out of me. When did you get back?"

His mouth twitched into an almost-smile as he bent down and kissed me on the forehead. "Good to see you too."

I sat up and spun around on the bed. "No, seriously. When did you get back?"

"Just now." He flashed me a grin. "Fifty bucks richer too. Nice work, babe. Izzy said not to spend it all in one place."

I rolled my eyes. "I should be offended you were betting on me to begin with."

Ranger started unbuttoning his shirt, and my salivary glands kicked into hyper drive. Jeez. Maybe Izzy had a point. There really was no "subtle" when it came to my response to Ranger. Which is why we probably needed to wrap this case up sooner than later, or else I was liable to do something stupid. Mind-blowing and magical maybe, but still stupid. Very, _very_ stupid.

"I only make bets I can win, babe. You should consider it a compliment."

I shook my head to clear it and tried to shift my focus to the ugly hotel artwork on the wall. The random splotches of paint weren't really doing it for me though. Especially not with the Cuban statue of David standing next to it. Jeez.

"Can you please put some clothes on?" I grumbled. "You're kind of distracting me from my breakthrough here."

"Breakthrough, huh?" he smirked, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest. "I was hoping to grab a quick shower, but maybe we should keep talking if you're on the verge of solving the puzzle."

Actually, I was on the verge of jumping the sexy man in my room, and living out one of my Zorro fantasies, but that probably wouldn't be very productive. Or smart. "Go take that shower," I managed to choke out. "We'll talk more when you get out."

Ranger shook his head as he disappeared into the bathroom.

"You're not as hot as you think you are!" I called after him.

"Yes I am!"

Yes he was. Drat!

I poured myself another cup of the now-cold hotel coffee and tried to resume my train of thought from before. The girls. The kid. And the why behind their staying put. The only reason I'd do that was if A. I needed something I couldn't get anywhere else, or B. there was more danger leaving than staying where I was.

What if it was both? Was that a possibility?

The thoughts tumbled around in my brain as I worked through some different scenarios. There was something there. I could feel it.

The water cut off in the bathroom, and two seconds later, Ranger was back in the room dressed in a low-slung towel and some majorly sexy, damp hair.

"Why must you torture me?" I sighed, falling face-first into a pillow. I heard a muffled laugh through the synthetic down alternative. Thankfully, when I came back up for air, Ranger had thrown on pants and a shirt.

"Torture, huh?" he smirked. "You ready to revisit that conversation we still need to have?"

"No," I groaned, going for the pillow again.

"It's gonna happen, babe. It _needs_ to happen."

"It doesn't though," I protested. "When this ends, I'm going back to Idaho, and you're going back to Jersey. With any luck, things'll just go back to the way they were before."

Something flashed in Ranger's eyes then, but it was so quick and sudden, I couldn't decide what it was. Damn that poker face of his!

"I'm waiting you out on this one, babe," he said, pulling out his laptop. "As long as it takes."

"And what if I'm never ready to have that conversation?"

Ranger never got the chance to answer. Because right then a barrage of bullets crashed through the window, and two masked men stormed the room.


	38. Chapter 38

Normally having a man on top of me would have been the highlight of my day. Especially this particular man. But unfortunately, the racing pulse I was currently experiencing had nothing to do with nearing the ever-elusive doomsday orgasm. It had much more to do with the disturbingly large guns currently trained at my head.

Ranger locked eyes with me a moment as we lay there nose to nose, asking the unspoken question if I was okay. My body was so numb from the surge of adrenaline, I probably wouldn't have noticed even if I had taken a bullet, but I gave an affirmative nod anyway. He seemed to accept that and slowly got to his feet, bringing his hands behind his head as the men continued shouting with their guns.

I tried to follow suit, but my body wasn't all that interested in cooperating. I'm definitely more of a "flight" than "fight" kind of girl. Even though at this juncture, I'm not sure either response was available. My arms and legs had completely shut down, and I literally could not move.

Panic started settling in as I wondered if I really had sustained a serious injury, but fortunately, I didn't have to wonder long. The taller of the men in the dark masks grabbed me by the arm and yanked me to my feet. As if by magic, my knees locked into place and my legs held. Phew. That was a good sign, wasn't it? I could probably rule out paralysis.

I stared down at my toes and wiggled them. Good news! All those little piggies wiggled. And even better news, I was still standing. Ten whole seconds, and I hadn't collapsed. I was improving by leaps and bounds, which probably meant the adrenaline was starting to wear off.

Thank God.

I took some deep breaths and finally started processing things outside of my own personal bubble. Of course, by then, Ranger and I were being "escorted" from the room. Guess you can't really linger very long if you've just busted up some windows and scared the hell out of half the hotel clientele with rapid gun fire.

We moved down the hall, guns digging into our backs until we reached the housekeeping supply room. Once there, we were ordered to dress in some already-prepared housekeeping uniforms, and then the four of us rode down the service elevator to the ground floor. One big, happy housekeeping family. The unimaginative and overused trick seemed to work though. We made it out of the building without a hitch just as the parade of sirens started wailing from the parking lot.

Lovely.

A delivery truck was waiting for us, parked a block over. Masked man number one threw the back open, shoved Ranger inside, and followed him in to cuff him to the interior. I watched suspiciously as Ranger let the events happen. You see, Ranger is in complete control of everything, always. He's in control of his heartrate, his breathing, his plans. Hell, sometimes I wonder if he can even control time. So believe me when I tell you, if he didn't want to be cuffed to that delivery truck right at that moment, he wouldn't have been.

Which meant he wanted it to happen. It was part of the plan. I tried to let that be a comfort as the world continued spinning like a violent tornado around me.

The guy still standing outside waited for his buddy to jump out before grabbing me by the hair and yanking my head back. He leaned in close with his nose to my neck and inhaled.

"She your personal whore?" he sneered, curling a smile up at Ranger.

Ranger's eyes darkened to a shade shy of murderous, and I think I almost wet my pants.

"You've chosen well," he continued, nuzzling my neck. "I'll bet those eyes pull you in like an ocean current when you're buried deep inside her." He glanced down. "And her rack's not bad either."

 _Not bad?_ I wasn't sure whether to be pissed by the implications or the fact the statement was made by some nasty douchebag who had no business admiring my rack in the first place. I guess it didn't really matter. The good news was my fear was quickly being replaced by some good ole fashioned Italian rage, and when Mad Stephanie showed up, you could almost always count on things getting a little interesting.

Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Doofus snickered to themselves as they shut the back of the truck.

"Hey," I said, glaring up at them. "Aren't I supposed to be back there too?"

That got me a sneer. "You're sittin' up front with us, sweetheart. For insurance purposes."

Yeah, well that wasn't exactly a bad idea. But I had a feeling these morons didn't come up with it all on their own. Time to see just how smart they really were.

"You're making a mistake," I said, trying to keep my voice as calm and level as possible. "Your instructions were probably to lock up the guy in charge, right? Bring him back to have a chat with you boss? Yeah, well, I hate to disappoint you, but you've got the wrong guy chained up back there. He's not the guy in charge."

I heard a laugh. "What? Who is then, sweetcakes? You?" More laughing.

I turned and looked them straight in the eye. "Yes."

The laughs died down as the men studied me a bit more intently. "You expect us to believe a _woman's_ in charge of Hombre's Honeys? Get real, lady. I've never heard of such a thing."

"Yeah, you're right," I shrugged sheepishly. "It was worth a try though, huh? I mean, that's just way too far-fetched to think that a woman would disguise her brilliant, money-making empire with a front man like that. Run everything from behind the scenes and keep a low profile. I mean, no one's _that_ clever, right?" I stared them down until they looked away.

Judging by the rapid glances that followed, my little speech was hitting its mark.

"You two go right along with your plan," I smiled. "I won't pull any more funny business, I promise."

One raised eyebrow and a quick whispery side discussion later, and I was tossed in the back with Ranger. Cuffed too. Guess they were genuinely worried I was some kind of brilliant mastermind. Depending on how you wanted to look at it, maybe I was.

Ranger's mouth twitched as soon as the door slammed shut. "Babe."

"Glad someone's finding all of this amusing." I rolled my eyes. "You've got a plan, right? Like maybe you're not really cuffed back here like they think you are?"

He rattled the chains against the wall. "Not getting out of these anytime soon. Pretty sure they're Hiatt."

"I don't care if they're diamond-studded from Tiffany's. You can still get out of them, right?"

"No."

"No?! What do you mean no?"

"I mean _no._ But I've always got a plan." He flashed me a grin.

We stood there a moment as the van started to move.

"And?" I asked.

"And we've got a bit of a drive ahead of us. How about that talk?"

 _Seriously?_ He wanted to talk _NOW?_

"You know," I said, narrowing my eyes. "If I didn't think it absolutely absurd, I would almost say you planned all of this. Just to get me to talk to you."

Ranger shrugged. "Maybe think of it more like killing two birds with one stone. Ever the opportunist, I'm always glad to take advantage of a moment. We've got that moment, babe. Let's talk."

 _A/N: One good cliffie deserves another? Sorry, guys. It was a good chapter break. And you have melyons to thank for the quick(er) turnaround on the update. She's a good arm-twister :) PS: thank you all for your continued reviews and support! They really make my day._


	39. Chapter 39

"What happened, Steph? Because correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought we were in a pretty good place there for a while. A great place, actually. At what point did we hit the road block?"

Jeez. Straight to the point. No preliminaries. No warm-ups. Should've known. Ranger wasn't exactly one to beat around the bush.

"The short answer is a lot happened," I said. A fresh batch of butterflies began fluttering around in my stomach, and I started to feel a little green. Deep conversations and moving vehicles obviously weren't a great mix.

"Let's go with the long answer then. Like I said, we've got time." Ranger leaned his back up against the van and looked like he was making himself comfortable. At least as comfortable as you can get in handcuffs on your way to meet your doom. He looked up at me expectantly. "I'm all ears, babe."

My nose started twitching, and I could feel the prickle of tears welling up behind my eyes. Damn. I had hardly said a word, and I was already a swirling mass of raw emotion. Always loved when that happened. Lying was like second nature, but if my stupid tears got involved, I became as transparent as a soap bubble. It was probably just as well. Ranger could sniff out a Stephanie lie like a mile away.

"Well, for starters, I lost Lula." A tear snuck out despite my best efforts to blink it back.

Ranger nodded. "And I know that was really hard on you, and you can't imagine how sorry I am that I wasn't there for that. But that can't be all of it, Steph."

It wasn't. "And if it was?"

He gave me a look. "Really?"

Damn his mind-reading abilities. I couldn't hide anything from that guy even if I wanted to. "Well, there might have been a _little_ more to it. Maybe."

He stared me down, waiting for me to continue.

"The stuff with Lula was pretty bad though, and I had a hard time coming to terms with her being gone. No doubt Bobby told you about the whole situation with my arm." I jangled the cuffs indicating the arm I'd injured. "Wound up at the hospital, and the nurse talked with me some while she went about her business. Ended up sending me home with some numbers for local counselors."

"I already know that part of the story, Steph. What happened with the counselor?"

I shrugged. "We talked."

"About?"

"My long list of problems."

Ranger blew out a small breath that could have been a sigh. "You're not as screwed up as you think you are, you know that? Everyone's got shit in their closets, babe. Hell, mine's practically overflowing."

"That's part of the problem."

Ranger's eyes locked with mine, and I felt my stomach drop. We were circling dangerously close to the truth. "The shit in my closet?" He raised an eyebrow.

I nodded, and a long stretch of silence passed between us.

"I see."

But he didn't. Not really. "It's not like that," I added, trying to soften the blow of my previous statement. "Well, not completely anyway."

"Then what the hell _is_ it like, Stephanie? I swear, getting you to open up about this stuff is worse than getting you to carry a gun. Why does this have to be complicated? Just say what you need to say."

I dropped my eyes to my shoes and tried to focus on the intermittent sounds coming from outside. "It's hard because I don't want it to be true," I whispered.

I just stood there a while not really sure if Ranger had heard me. Except I should've known better. He hears everything. He's got crazy, supersonic ears like a bat.

"So you decided you couldn't cope with that?" he finally asked. "The shit in my closet?"

I shrugged. "It might be part of it."

But it wasn't all of it. And not even a majority. The problem was so much bigger than the secrecy shrouding his dark past. Knowing there was a part of his life I'd never have access to was a hard thing for me to come to terms with, but it wasn't a deal breaker. It wasn't _the_ deal breaker.

Ranger leaned his head back against the side of the van and closed his eyes. "I was afraid of that. When things started moving beyond that initial attraction, I was afraid there'd come a day you'd want more than what I had left to give. Guess those fears weren't entirely unfounded."

There was a hint of pain in the confession. A touch of vulnerability. It was oddly endearing and unbearably tragic.

"This is all my fault," I frowned. "I don't listen. At least not like I should."

Ranger's mouth twitched. "Sometimes. But what does that have to do with anything?"

A lot, apparently. "You established your boundaries early on," I explained. "Told me you weren't relationship material. On a number of occasions, actually. You knew what you would and wouldn't be capable of, and those limits were never a secret. You were up front with me from the very beginning."

"True. But I thought…" His words trailed off into the silence. "I'm not a fool, Steph. Something changed right before I left on that away mission, and it must've been pretty serious for you to be tiptoeing around it like some trip wire hooked up to a stack of C4."

Good analogy.

I blew out a sigh. "I know you can't do a traditional relationship, Ranger. I _know_ that. I even mostly understand it. But I'm not sure I can handle… I mean, maybe you can't say it, but jeez! You didn't even nod or smile or anything. You didn't even turn around and say your signature 'babe.' You just kept walking right out the door that morning like those words meant nothing." I sniffled back some tears. "Don't you understand? I had to leave after that. Because those words meant something to me. They meant everything."

I'd honestly never seen Ranger surprised by anything. Not a dead body. Not a naked skip. Not even some incompetent girl showing up at a café hoping for a crash course in bounty hunting. But I was pretty sure at that moment Ranger was very much surprised. "You said…"

"And meant it," I nodded as I tried to wipe away some of the tears on my shoulder.

Ranger's mouth twitched as something that looked an awful lot like relief crossed his face.

"What's so funny?" I asked, feeling a tad indignant. It was bad enough crying and feeling all sorts of vulnerable in front of Ranger, but now I had the sneaking suspicion he was laughing at me. While I was handcuffed with no hope of escape. Oh joy.

"How is it you have both the best and worst possible timing of anyone I know?"

I made a face. "What are you talking about? Are you saying if my timing had been different, your response would have changed?" I rolled my eyes. "Jeez, Ranger. Give me a break."

He shook his head and smiled. "Ever hear the term NIHL before?"

"No, but I've heard of NOYL before."

He mulled the acronym over for a moment. "Not on your life?"

"Not bad, Einstein. What's NIHL?"

"Noise-induced hearing loss."

"That's a fancy term. What does it have to do…?"

Oh. My. Gosh. No way. I just stood there, staring at Ranger for what felt like a small eternity. "You've got to be kidding. You didn't hear me?"

"Trust me. I'd remember if I had."

The butterflies in my stomach suddenly grew ten-fold. Especially with the look Ranger was now giving me.

"But we'd had conversations. We'd talked that morning in bed."

"Amongst other activities," he smirked.

"But how could you have heard me then and not like an hour later?" I gave him a look. "You're making this up."

"I'm not. And I didn't hear you that morning. Or the night before for that matter."

I frantically tried to think back to that last day we'd spent together. We'd done a late dinner, headed to bed early—not to sleep, of course. Maybe we hadn't talked as much as I thought we had. But I know we'd talked that next morning. We were making plans for when Ranger got back from his mission. Big plans.

"But how…?"

"Do a quick experiment with me, babe," he said. "Say something without using your voice."

"Ranger, I'm not going to…"

"Just do it. Say anything. Your favorite Christmas present growing up. The name of your imaginary friend when you were kid. Whatever you want."

"Hey, who says I had an imaginary friend?"

He gave me a look.

"Fine." I thought for a moment then mouthed something I was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to guess at random or divine with his mad mind-reading skills. "Alright my black-clad man of mystery," I said. "Impress me."

Suddenly, the van came to a stop. Amidst our crazy conversation, I'd forgotten we were still in transit.

Our masked abductors suddenly appeared at the back, guns aimed threateningly at our heads. The taller one jumped in and stood beside me with a gun at my temple. He glared over at Ranger.

"You try anything funny, and I'll shoot her," he growled.

His buddy jumped in and started unlocking Ranger's cuffs. Then he came over and messed with mine. They led us like POW's out of the van and toward a building that looked like a cross between a black market casino and an Olive Garden. The thought made my stomach rumble. But not in a good way.

We were escorted through a large metal door and up a flight of stairs. My heart was pounding so hard in my ears by that time that I almost didn't hear the whisper just behind my ear.

"Doubt your favorite sport is synchronized swimming. And just for the record, I love you too."

I tried to turn around and look at Ranger, but I was too slow. A stitched-up ski mask came over my head, and then everything went black.


	40. Chapter 40

As a rule, I'm not generally fond of ski masks. Thanks to the news and Hollywood and just about anyone looking for quick identity concealment when they're breaking the law, the things have become the iconic insignia for bad guys and mayhem. And up until about a week ago, I thought I'd never have to see one again. Well unless, you know, I actually went skiing or something.

It had obviously been wishful thinking.

Not only did I have to see one again, I was actually now _wearing_ one. And at first all I could think was how weird it probably looked with my mess of curls bulging under the fabric at the top. It probably wasn't my best look. Not that anyone cared, mind you. The way I was being marched around everywhere with the barrel of a gun between my shoulder blades, I had a feeling I wasn't about to be meeting the Pope. Saint Peter on the other hand… The thought gave me a nervous shiver.

And if the ski mask and impending doom weren't bad enough on my mental health meter, the man I'd been unofficially trying to hate over the last two years for being incapable of relationships had just told me he loved me. Straight up. With potentially a very valid and completely understandable reason as to why he might not have been able to reciprocate the sentiment two years ago when I fled Jersey.

It made me cringe in places I didn't know I could. In deep places. Hurt places.

My brain was on overload and hummed like a million angry beehives. Fortunately, just when I thought there was a real possibility I might be sick from everything, the ski mask was finally yanked off my head. Thank goodness! Fresh air at last. The hyperventilating could wait.

Or so I thought.

I blinked a few times in the darkness and turned my head, trying to figure out why I still couldn't see. A door slammed behind me, and I wondered if there'd been some kind of chemical enhancement in the ski mask intended blind its wearer. The thought had me in a panic.

I was too young to be blind! There were still so many things I wanted to see. Paris and Cancun and the face of the poor sap who finally ended up with me. Tears welled behind my eyes and began spilling out uncontrollably. Although I'd never fully imagined myself as a mother, I could see this image of the most beautiful baby in the world in the arms of an incompetent woman who would never be able to see that baby's perfect smile. I choked back a sob.

"Is someone there?" I heard a voice whisper from somewhere nearby.

"Ranger?" It was a foolish hope. I already knew the voice didn't belong to him. Too feminine. Plus, common sense suggested he and I had been separated a while ago. That strange tingling feeling I got whenever he was close by was currently nonexistent. Apparently I'd been too distracted by my thoughts to notice when the separation had actually occurred.

"Is someone there?" the voice repeated.

I felt cold fingers brush my arm, and I yelped in surprise. "Stay away from me," I called, whipping around and striking nothing but air. Ugh! "Being blind sucks," I muttered.

"You're blind? Maybe you can use your other heightened senses to help me figure out a way out of here."

I rolled my eyes. "Gee, that's a really great thought except for the fact I just lost my sight about ten minutes ago. My senses are about as good as yours. Probably worse, actually."

"Ten minutes ago? You mean, when they tossed you in here?"

"Yeah. There was this whole ski mask, and I think…"

My story was interrupted by some very obvious snickering. I crossed my arms over my chest. "What's so funny? Are you seriously mocking the disabled?"

"I would be…if you were actually disabled." More laughing. Great. I loved being the butt of a bad joke.

"I can't see," I grouched. " _Anything_. No shadows. No flickers of light. Nada. I am completely and totally blind, you insensitive jerk."

There was some shuffling off in the distance, and then I saw this faint flicker of light and the silhouette of a figure standing near me. Before I could even blink, it was gone.

"What was that?"

"Don't get excited. It's just the last breath of a dying flashlight." She clicked it again, and there was another quick glimmer of light casting the holder of the light source in an eerie glow. Like a ghost.

My stomach did a flip-flop. "Oh no. I'm not dead, am I? Please tell me I'm not dead. Was the ski mask laced with some kind of poison" My thoughts lingered on that a moment. What a stupid way to die. Death by ski mask. My day just kept getting better and better.

"You're not dead," snickered the girl. "Well, not yet anyway."

Not blind _and_ not dead. That was probably a good thing. Gave me some wiggle room on the whole _really_ bad day situation.

Then it hit me. A strange moment when my thoughts converged and shifted into overdrive, trying to piece together something interesting. That glimpse I'd had of the other person in the room. I'd seen her face before.

"Anna?" I asked.

There was a long, drawn-out silence, and for a moment, I wondered if I was hallucinating everything. Maybe I'd been knocked unconscious back at the hotel, and this was all some crazy mental thing. Weird dreams weren't all that unusual for me.

"Are you working with the undercover cop?" she whispered. Then she made a disgusted sound. "Wait, don't answer that. This room is probably bugged. Yeah, I'm Anna. Who are you?"

The darkness was really disorienting, so I decided to take a seat on the floor. "Someone who's been looking for you. Speaking of, it wouldn't hurt to know where we are right now."

"We're at the end of the line, sweetheart. Unless you've brought along a really good bargaining chip."

I thought about that a moment. "Does a badass Rambo-type count as a good bargaining chip?"

"She in here with us too?"

I tried to hone in on the weird tingling connection Ranger and I shared, but I still wasn't getting any vibes. "It's actually a he, and I don't think so."

"Well, maybe if _he's_ got his whole arsenal strapped to his belt or slung over his shoulder, we might have something to work with. Otherwise…"

Now probably wasn't the best time to mention Ranger being handcuffed with minimal artillery. If any.

"The Rambo-type's pretty good even without weaponry," I explained. Not to mention, I was still convinced he was some kind of superhuman. But without hard evidence, I wasn't sure who else was gonna buy that theory. It was probably one of those see-to-believe things.

"These guys are better," Anna countered. "Trust me. I thought I had 'em cornered a few weeks ago with a pretty big play. But as you can see, it didn't pan out so well."

I raised my eyebrows in curiosity. "What was the play?"

Anna made a disgusted sound in the dark. "You're obviously not who I thought you were. What, did they send you in here to break me? Weasel your way into my good graces? Well, I got news for them." She turned and yelled at what I assumed was the wall, "I ain't telling you shit!"

I heard her footsteps fade away in the distance, and I automatically stood and tried to follow, but I walked into one of the walls instead. Damn darkness. It was then I realized the room surrounding me wasn't very big. If I stood with my arms spread, I could almost reach from one end to the other. The depth was probably a little more of an expanse, but maybe not by much.

"Are we in a closet?" I asked, feeling a bout of claustrophobia start to settle in.

"Panic room," Anna responded, suddenly very close again. I jumped and squeaked at the same time.

Ugh. This whole pitch black darkness business was really doing a number on me. I took a few deep breaths and tried not to dwell on the negatives. There were a few things still working in my favor. I was alive, not blind, and hell, I'd even inadvertently found the missing Anna. That was pretty cool. It would be even cooler if Ranger was here to fill me in on his so called "plan," but I guess my luck just wasn't swinging that way today.

"Why are they keeping you here?" I asked. I really wanted to ask why she was still alive given what I knew about the case, but that didn't seem like a very nice question. You catch more bees with honey and all that.

The answer surprised me. "I'm the only one who knows where it is."

"Where what is?"

"The copy of their database." Her voice grew quiet. "And the proof."

If there was one benefit of such complete darkness, it was the heightening of my thinking processes. Pieces of the puzzle we'd been working on for days started coming together right before my eyes. In a matter of speaking, anyway. Those mental lightbulbs could be pretty damn bright when you're surrounded by nothing but black.

"That proof's pretty solid," I said. "Hard to argue with DNA these days."

There was another long bout of silence in which I could almost visualize Anna giving me a look of astonishment. Hell, I was kind of astonishing myself.

"You found them?" It was just barely a whisper.

"Not exactly."

I heard her expel a sigh of relief. _Them_. So Kate did still have the girl. I wondered if she also had Anna's copy of the database. If that was the case, Ranger really shouldn't be wasting his time here. He should be making sure he finds Kate before anyone else did.

A really dark thought crept into my head then. Something I really should have realized sooner. They'd been keeping Anna alive because she was the only one who knew where Kate and the girl were. I, Stephanie Plum, did not have the same leverage in this game. In fact, I had no leverage at all.

Which is probably why the next thing I knew, thick, muscular arms came around me from behind as I was wrangled back out the same way I came in. This time, the massive gun was pointing straight at my head. And I was back to wearing my favorite ski mask.

Oh boy.


	41. Chapter 41

My feet stumbled to a halt after what felt like a mile-long journey to nowhere. A waft of something tomato-y blended together with the stale sweat smell of the ski mask, and for a split second I was acutely aware of just how long it had been since I'd last eaten something. My stomach—an entity all its own—seemed to operate without much regard to my worry levels, so naturally it growled its approval of the very potent Italian smells filling the room. Traitor.

I felt the barrel of the gun dig into my back. "What the hell was that?" growled my large-armed captor.

I didn't answer right away considering my mouth was covered in fabric, but the gun kept digging in deeper between my shoulder blades. Apparently this was an important question. Either that, or gun-boy was feeling a little edgy.

"My stomach," I said, over-enunciating every syllable so he could understand through the barrier of the mask.

" _That_ was your stomach?" he asked incredulously. "I've heard bears growl with less noise."

"Pretty sure it's one of the Seven Wonders of the World. You know, right up there with the pyramids and Stonehenge."

My new "friend" didn't find the remark nearly as funny as I did. Not even a snicker. Jeez. Talk about your tough crowd.

I heard the murmur of some hushed voices nearby, then suddenly, poof! My ski mask blindfold was removed, and I found myself in the middle of a room blinking like an idiot at the obscenely bright lights. Now I knew how those poor rabbits felt when they got yanked from the magician's hat. They deserved a lot more than a carrot bonus for their troubles, that was a for sure.

Once my eyes adjusted, I scanned the room for familiar faces and was shocked to discover way more than I expected. But not in a good way. Everyone was wearing masks. The place looked like a freaking meeting of the Justice League. There were five men sitting around a table: Captain America, Spider Man, Deadpool, The Flash, and Batman.

I chewed my cheek while the absurdity of the moment took its time to settle. Then my eyes lingered on Batman.

Captain America stood and raised his glass of wine my direction. "Good of you to join us," he said, spreading his arms in invitation to take a seat at the table. Given the imposing number of heavily armed Bane lookalikes guarding the perimeter, I decided my options were pretty limited. I took the only available chair as I tried to mentally sort through what the hell was going on. As usual, I was coming up bupkis.

I began processing details of this unorthodox dinner party. From the neck down, these men were wealthy. Armani suits. Designer ties. Pressed. Polished. Exuding overwhelming amounts of power and prestige. At first glance, I'd say these men definitely weren't ones to mess with. Or cross.

As I continued my assessment of the guests, I realized one of the ties looked vaguely familiar. Then the body type beneath it became more familiar as well. The Flash was none other than Dominic Wilson.

Well, I'll be darned. Ranger had done it. I was sitting at a table with some very powerful pimps. The antithesis of the league of extraordinary gentleman.

Captain America smiled at me, and a chill ran down my spine. "The food should be just about ready. Care to dine with us? I believe we have much to discuss."

One of the Banes suddenly appeared next to me and poured me a glass of sparkling water. I stared at it a moment, then back at Captain America. Overwhelming hospitality with these guys could only mean one thing. I had something they wanted. Trying like hell to figure out what that something could possibly be, I decided to play along until I could figure it out.

"Sure," I shrugged with a flirty grin. "Although I wish you would've put the dress code in the invitation. I've got a hell of a Wonder Woman outfit hanging in my closet."

There were a few subtle laughs from the other heroes, and Captain America's grin grew to something one might find on a hungry crocodile. I resisted the urge to cringe.

He resumed his seat and took another sip of his wine. "I have a bit of a problem," he said with a stare intense enough to see straight through to my backbone. Damn. This guy had sold-my-soul-to-the-devil written all over him. Good chance he was a politician.

"I'm a businessman," he continued. "Always have been. Always will be. It's in my blood." The way he said "blood" made my insides churn. "I've got a pretty solid business model here. The digital age has made things so much more convenient, you see. Avatars and private profiles to protect identities, firewalls to keep the feds off our sites, wireless money transfer to minimize paper trails. It's brilliant, isn't it?"

I stared him down and gave a polite nod.

"But." He paused just long enough to crack his neck. "People always complicate things, don't they?"

Couldn't argue with that. If people weren't around, the world would be practically perfect in every way. Clean. Peaceful. Full of nature in all its pristine beauty. And probably boring as hell.

"I'm no fool. My…employees are given thorough health screenings. Safeguards are in place to keep the profits up and problems down, but one of my girls turned out to be quite the fertile Myrtle even despite all my precautions. And sneaky as hell. By the time I figured out the problem, she was too far along for an easy fix."

Jeez. This guy's voice was hypnotic, but the words coming from his mouth were giving me all the warm fuzzies of talking to a serial killer. Everything at the table seemed so casual and relaxed. Ironically, I was anything but.

"Funny thing," he said, pulling me back into his trance again. "I liked the girl. She pulled in double what all the others made. Tons of requests. A real highlight for the business. So you know what?"

I raised my eyebrows encouraging him to continue.

"I did something I shouldn't have. I let her keep it."

 _Let_ her? My hands clenched into tight, angry fists under the table. Fortunately, before I had the chance to lunge across it and strangle the demented American icon, our food appeared. Chicken parmigiana, an ornate salad, and the kind of crusty bread I'm sure you can only find in the bakery of a true Italian. They were all personal favorites, but I'd lost my appetite.

"What happened to the girl?" I asked once the servers disappeared again.

Captain America shrugged. "The baby made her think she was all high and mighty. After a while, she started refusing jobs and pushing my buttons, so I did what any boss would do. I took care of the problem."

I swallowed hard. The implications of his statement were disgustingly obvious. Baby momma was no longer in the picture.

The Captain laughed. "You know, it's the damnedest thing. Here I thought the situation would keep the girls in line. A vivid reminder, if you will, of who's really in charge here. But, as luck would have it, I started a bit of a revolution instead. Next thing I know, there's rumors of undercover cops sneaking around with my employees. Whispers of a DNA test and a black list of clients that could destroy the empire I've created.

"Wanting to nip things in the bud, I quashed the rumors and punished those spreading them. Started cracking down on security and setting traps for any undercover threats. But one of the girls took a stand anyway. She got smart, put two and two together, kidnapped the child, and disappeared. Or at least tried to. The little girl was recently diagnosed with a medical condition. Diabetic. Needs insulin."

I knew it. I knew there had to be a reason why they'd stuck around. Without proper identification, insurance, the whole nine yards, Anna and Kate probably couldn't get the medical care the girl needed. At last not without paying through the nose for the insulin on the black market. Talk about your rock and hard place.

The Captain sneered a smile at me. "Starting to feel desperate, Anna got my attention. Promised to meet me if we could work out…an arrangement." He paused and nodded to someone off in the distance.

Suddenly there was a commotion behind me as a Bane shoved Anna through the door. The light revealed the horrors of what I wasn't able to see before. Anna was nothing but a bruised and bloody body, her hair cut short in choppy, jagged patches. Her lips were dry and cracked. She looked unbearably thin, and I wondered just how long these ruthless men had been torturing her for the information she refused to give them.

Not long enough, apparently. Her eyes still looked fierce and determined. Livid and repulsed. Anna wasn't going down without a fight. She glared daggers at Captain America.

"Hello, Anna," he crooned. "Are you ready to answer my questions?"

"Go to hell," she growled, spitting on the floor in his direction.

The room fell into an eerie silence as Captain settled back into his chair and steepled his fingers. He gave a subtle nod to Deadpool. "I think it's your turn. Make sure your lesson is a memorable one."

Deadpool stood from the table and crossed the room to Anna. He grabbed her arm and began wrangling her back out of the room. I thought I caught a momentary flash of fear in her eyes, but it was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared. She was already protecting herself, disappearing behind mental and emotional barriers to survive whatever hell was coming her way.

I'd seen walls like that before. A long time ago. In the eyes of a father when his daughter was abducted by a psychopath.

A familiar, nauseated feeling was starting to take over again. This whole situation was disgusting. The kid. The prostitution. Anna. Feeling an impulsive rush of anger and fear, the words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. "Wait," I said in a breathless plea. "Stop."

Deadpool paused in the doorway, and I could feel Captain America smiling behind me. "You were right," he said, turning his attention to Batman. "Just like you predicted. And you think she knows more than she's letting on?"

He made his way around the table, gliding across the floor like a lethal snake. He stopped at my chair and nodded over at Batman. "Your friend over there and I have reached an agreement. We've planned a merger of enterprises in exchange for his expertise in eliminating my recent problems." His eyes shifted back to me, and my stomach dropped. "And you. He says you know where they are."

At that moment, I wasn't sure what was more terrifying. The fact I had a sudden gut-intuition where Kate and the girl were hiding. Or the fact I knew without a shred of uncertainty that the supposed "friend" in the black cowl was not Ranger.

For some reason, I was left navigating this den of lions all on my own.


	42. Chapter 42

_A/N: For Michelle :) Thanks for reading all my nutty stories. You're the best! And thank you to the rest of you for being obscenely patient waiting for updates on this one. Good things come to those who wait, right? ;)_

My all-time favorite thing to do when caught in a bad situation is to head straight for Denialville. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. This whole situation couldn't possibly be happening to me. I mean, seriously? I'm just a nobody. A Jersey girl recently gone Idahoan with a reasonably low-key job and a low-key house with a few low-key friends. At least the newer ones anyway.

I didn't do the whole danger and mayhem bit anymore. Ever. That was strictly reserved for the paid professionals. Those with the badges and training on how to use and appropriately operate the "big guns." AKA: not me. So why then was I suddenly knee-deep in a high profile prostitution scheme with the livelihood of three girls teetering precariously on my shoulders? Why was I sitting across from a terrifying man who didn't even bat an eye at "eliminating problems?" And most importantly, why the hell was the man who just proclaimed his love for me (who probably moonlights as Batman) not upholding his typical responsibilities of saving my backside?

Although all very good questions, I still wasn't coming up with any good answers. So I did what I normally do whenever Denialville doesn't pan out. I turned on the charm and tried like hell to tip the scales in my favor. Maybe I'd have a go at playing stupid. People tend to let things slip when they think you have nada for brains.

"Sure, I know where the girls are," I said, batting my eyelashes at the Captain. "But," I continued. "I'm afraid it's gonna cost you. Favors come at a price these days, you know?"

I watched as the eyes behind the blue mask narrowed. Apparently Captain America wasn't all that fond of other people calling the shots.

"My dear," he sneered. "You're not in the best position to be making demands. Your friend here says he can extract the desired information from you. And given his resume, I'm not exactly disinclined to believe him."

I glared at Batman. "Really? Because that's news to me."

The Captain gave a dark laugh. "Listen honey, I'm gonna make this one easy for you. You've got exactly one card to play here. Congratulations, you know where the girls are." He gave me an overly dramatic bow before nudging Batman with his elbow. "And you must give one hell of a blowjob because your pimp here's done you a _major_ favor. In our recently negotiated terms of business, he's made sure you get to come out of this still breathing. If and only if you cooperate, that is. So believe me when I tell you now is the time to play that card, sweetheart. Otherwise, I'm afraid you've reached the end of the line."

Huh. So _this_ is what the end of the line looked like. A demented Justice League and the bad guys winning. Wow. And here I thought I'd just die an old maid with twenty cats in Idaho. Well, except _that_ theory had kind of been blown out of the water a few hours ago. You know, right about the time the man of my denial-land dreams said he had hearing problems—like _literally_ —and proceeded to whisper "I love you" over my shoulder. At that point, the end of the line started looking a lot more like me dying of a fatal orgasm. Maybe several. If I was really lucky.

You know what? Screw this. Screw everything. I was tired and cranky and obviously in _way_ over my head here. These guys wanted the girl? Now sweat. They could have her. Hell, maybe they couldn't. I mean, it was just a hunch, right? Big whoop. So what if they were probably going to hook Anna and Kate up with some cinderblock shoes and a one-way ticket to dining with the fish, but hey, that was their problem, right? I was just the poor girl caught up in the middle of all this. The innocent bystander. Mostly.

I snuck a glance back at Anna who was still struggling against Deadpool on the other side of the room. Then I realized I was full of shit. And had a heart way too big for its own freakin' good.

Damn.

"Guess you'll have to get Batman there to make me talk then," I said, flipping my hair behind my shoulder like I didn't have a care in the world. "Cuz I'm not sayin' shit to any of you."

Man, I sure hoped I knew what I was doing. If not… Well, I wasn't exactly keen on thinking about the alternatives right now. You know, being that they were kind of fatal to my health and all.

Batman stood and made his way around the table to where I was seated. He grabbed me by the arm and yanked me to my feet, and with a quick nod to Captain America, he "escorted" me past Anna and Deadpool out the door. We turned a corner and slipped into a room that was already prepped with a tray and several instruments that looked quite useful for "extracting" information.

Oh boy.

Batman shoved me into the chair and zip-tied my hands and feet. I was really starting to think my heroic plan may have backfired. So much for thinking I was Wonder Woman.

"You should know I've got three kids at home," I said, hoping for some kind of pity vote. "Three beautiful kids with dark skin and dark, silky hair like their father. I'm all they have. Please don't do this." Ha, I guess the lie was a bit of wishful thinking…

Batman smirked at me, cleared his throat and selected something terrifying from the tray. He brushed my cheek with it. "Say something weird," he whispered.

" _What_?"

"You know, something really bizarre."

My eyebrows creased in confusion. "Why? Is that like the equivalent of dirty talk for you? You get off on that sort of thing?"

"It's a test," he replied looking a little irritated. "Just do it."

"Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious," I said. "Is that weird enough for you?"

We waited in silence for several weird, long moments. Then Batman smiled at me. "Hector's scrambled the audio. But we still have to make this look real. Give me your best terrified face, beautiful."

Well, well, well. This was an interesting turn of events. "Les?"

"I said look terrified, dammit!" he growled, charging toward me like he was going to bash my face in.

I screamed and cowered back on impulse alone. Fortunately, the blow I was expecting never came. Lester Santos grabbed me by my shirt and shoved me hard against the chair. "Don't blow our cover, beautiful. We've got to keep up the mirage here until I can get you the information you need to blow this shit show wide open."

I nodded rapidly with wide eyes even though I wanted to ask a million questions. Or maybe just one. What. The. Hell. At least now I was pretty sure this had all been a part of Ranger's plan. The why still evaded me, but maybe the detailed explanations could wait until later. You know, now that I was expecting to live to later.

"So," Lester said, grabbing something new from the tray. "What do you know about stage fighting?"

I narrowed my eyes and spit on the floor.

"I'll take that to mean you're ready to follow my lead then," he smirked. He stomped over and grabbed a handful of hair on my head and flashed the blade in front of my eyes. "Oh, and by the way." A small packet of something I didn't recognize mysteriously appeared in his hand, and he squirted some of its contents surreptitiously on my face. I screamed from shock of it. "It's good to see you, Steph."

Something red dripped from my chin, and I wondered at that moment just how weird it was that I was relieved Lester Santos knew how to make me bleed.


	43. Chapter 43

Even without the confirmation of a mirror, I knew I was a frightful sight when Batman (aka: Lester Santos) dragged me back into the room of treacherous super heroes. Which was the plan, of course. At least I was pretty sure it was the plan anyway. It was a little hard to tell without explicit confirmation, which we apparently didn't have time for.

During my little "interrogation" session, Les had filled me in on the next phase of operations while making it look like he was forcing me to spill my guts by beating the ever-living crap out of me. I have to admit, it was a bit of a challenge faking fear and pain while simultaneously committing to memory directions to a location I'd never seen or been to before. And the whole stage-fighting thing? Yeah, it is _way_ harder than it looks. But considering the circumstances, I thought I'd pulled off the performance quite well. And judging by the small twitch of Lester's mouth when we left the interrogation room, he'd thought so too.

We walked (and hobbled) our way back to our waiting companions, and I realized with a terrible, growing knot in my stomach that a lot hinged on my continued performance and the location currently stuck on repeat in my mind. It was where Ranger and Izzy were strategically positioned to bag and tag this ruthless band of untouchable pimps. And we'd already hit a few complications.

Apparently Izzy had encountered some problems while securing the building, which was why Ranger and Les had played the old switcheroo act and traded parts in the plan. Guess those freaky action hero masks were kind of a blessing in disguise that way. There wasn't room for any glitches, even small ones. One slipup and this whole sting operation would likely go up in flames. Along with any number of its key players.

I tried not to dwell on that last thought too much.

Captain America gave a wicked grin as Batman shoved me to my knees in front of the table surrounded by the members of the Injustice League. Les grabbed a handful of my hair (a little too roughly, I might add) and yanked my head back hard, so I was forced to make eye contact with the circle of villainous heroes.

"Got her to talk," he growled. His hand suddenly released its grip, and I fell forward a little. "Kate and the girl are holed up in a rundown apartment complex across town. My girl, Stephanie, has graciously offered to lead us to that location, and she's fully aware of the consequences if we come up empty-handed."

I glanced back at Les, trying my best to look terrified, which wasn't all that hard considering he had a rather murderous look in his eyes. I realized then a particularly sobering truth. Lester Santos was not _always_ fun and games. His past might not have been as dark as Ranger's, but I had a feeling it wasn't all sunshine and roses either. For some reason, the thought made me a little depressed.

Captain America stood, his eyes going from me to Les and staring at us for several unbearably long moments, his mental gears grinding so hard, I could practically see the smoke coming from his ears. The moment finally passed, and he seemed to settle on a course of action, which fortunately did not include putting a quick bullet in my brain. Yet.

"You two with me," he said, nodding to Lester. "The rest of you move to your assigned posts. If anyone trips the security system while I'm gone, you know what to do. No evidence."

That last statement made my blood run cold. What did he mean "no evidence?" I had a fleeting thought of Anna and wished I hadn't.

Les grabbed my elbow and yanked me to my feet. I tried to take comfort in the fact I couldn't see any worry or concern buried in the blank look of his eyes, but my spidey sense wasn't nearly as confident in his sobered and unreadable expressions. In fact, my spidey sense was going a little ballistic at the moment, and I was starting to worry it might make me do something stupid. Like knee the Captain in the groin and run like hell.

Thankfully my common sense kicked in at the last minute, and I remembered my skill set did not include the kind of superhuman speed that could outrun bullets. Considering there were a lot of guns in the room at the moment, both visible and concealed, I kept my wild impulses at bay as I was marched like a hostage from the room.

We reached the lot out front, and a van pulled up to the curb. The ski-masked driver hopped out and tossed the keys to Captain America who grabbed my arm and wrangled me into the back where he cuffed me to some steal hooks that I had a feeling did not come as your typical van accessory. Once I was secured, he locked me in and turned to face Les.

Then I watched in horror as he drew his gun in one practiced and fluid motion and fired twice at Batman. Pop-pop! Lester staggered back a moment before crumpling to the ground.

My body shook, and the scream I so desperately wanted to expel was swallowed up by the shock of the moment. Captain America looked up at me through the van window and gave a shrug like he'd just rid himself of an annoying pest. The tears streamed down my face as I kept trying to process the horror of what I'd just seen.

Was he really…? Had he been expecting…? Surely this was not part of the plan. But then again… I closed my eyes and rocked in my seat, mentally repeating Ranger's words on the drive over: _I've got a plan for everything_. I sure hope he meant what he said.

The Captain angled into the driver's seat, and I tried to regain some of my composure. It was a bit of a lost cause. I was so rattled by this point, my teeth were chattering uncontrollably. The odds were pretty high I was suffering from shock.

"Sorry about your pimp," the Captain said with a sick grin as he glanced back at me in the rearview mirror. "I'm not really interested in splitting the empire I've created through years of my own sweat and blood. I'm sure you understand."

I couldn't even manage a response, snarky or otherwise.

"This plays out one of two ways," he continued. "You cooperate, my problem gets resolved quickly and efficiently, and I make your last moments on this earth as painless as possible. Or…you play the foolish noble do-gooder, I resolve my problems anyway through my own means and resources, and I make you beg for death. It's your choice, sweetheart, but I'd think long and hard about it before trying to play the hero. Either way, you're dead. It all depends on how you want to go."

Gee, can't say I loved my choices at the moment, but the funny thing was the speech from my captor wasn't eliciting the kind of terror it probably should have. I'd been in so many near-death situations that this almost felt like a joke. Like someone was just messing with me, waiting to pop out of nowhere with a camera and a big "gotcha!" sign. The absurdity of the idea made me snicker, and I snorted back a laugh.

The Captain turned to look at me. "Shit. Don't tell me you've slipped over the edge already. Hey." He reached over and tapped my forehead, and I broke into a full-on laughing fit.

"Listen lady, all I need from you is the address. That's all I need here. You give me the street and numbers and we're golden. I'll put a quick bullet in you, and all the crazy will stop. See? I'll just type up that address in this handy little app here, the building's leveled, and no more problems."

My stomach lurched. But I tried to keep on laughing anyway. I should've known a guy like this wouldn't want to get his hands dirty by going in and doing the job himself. Levelling a building might raise a few eyebrows, but something told me this guy had enough favors to call in that it wasn't going to be a major problem. Except for the people in said building. Which currently included Ranger and Izzy and a team of people that had no clue the danger they were in.

Images swirled around me as my brain scrambled to organize my thoughts. It screeched to a halt when it settled on an idea. There was exactly one trick I had left up my sleeve, and I hoped like hell it was going to be enough.

I also hoped that Ranger still liked hiding trackers on me without my knowledge. Especially considering my life kind of depended on it.


	44. Chapter 44

The Captain turned in the driver's seat and aimed his gun at my head. Guess he was hoping it would sober me up a little. The tactic worked like a charm.

"The address," he said again, the icy look in his eyes revealing his heightened levels of irritation.

My bout of hysteria passed, and I cleared my throat.

Oh boy. I needed a location, and I needed one fast. Preferably one with zero innocent bystanders. The unfortunate news was that I wasn't playing on my home turf here. If I were back in Trenton or maybe even Idaho, I could probably lure this psycho nut-job to an abandoned building without breaking a sweat. But here I knew nothing. No street names, no addresses. Well, not enough to make it count. Here I was pretty much screwed. Minus the "pretty much" part.

Except for the stupid, harebrained idea I still had tumbling around in my brain. Guess if I'd reached the end of my rope, the least I could do was protect a few people in the process.

Maybe.

"I'm going to need to drive," I said.

The Captain gave me a look like I was crazy and laughed. "Yeah, right. So you can drive the car over some embankment or crash it on the interstate? I'm not that stupid, sweetheart."

Too bad.

"Neither am I," I countered, flashing an enigmatic smile. "That database Anna got a hold of? I made a copy for insurance purposes. You can't be too careful these days." I let my smile grow a little for added effect. "If I don't come back in the next few hours, that client information is rigged to go straight to the feds. But," I continued, lying my ass off, "it's hooked up to some voice recognition software."

That was totally plausible, right? Not just some crazy espionage crap I'd picked up from watching too many crime shows? I guess it was. Captain America wasn't giving me the "you're full of shit" look.

"If you take me back to my place," I continued. "I can get on my laptop and say the magic words to stop the transfer. If you don't…" I shrugged. "Well, tough luck, buddy."

The slap to my face was abrupt. And hurt like hell. My ears rang like a freaking church cathedral as the Captain grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked me close enough that I caught the putrid stench of stale tobacco on his breath. "Listen, bitch, I'm done playing games here. You don't need a damn laptop to stop that transfer." He reached into one of his pockets and shoved a phone under my nose. "You call it off now, or I'm going to start cutting away fingers and toes. Got it?"

Oh, I got it alright. Crystal clear. Especially since I was rather fond of my fingers and toes. And not particularly fond of the idea of dismemberment.

I stared at the phone. This had the potential to be a brilliant stroke of luck. Or a massive problem. Gee, who to call...

Ranger was the overwhelmingly obvious choice. But I'd had his number on speed-dial for so many years, I wasn't sure I could actually remember the digits. Jeez. Sometimes handy tech shortcuts sure came back to bite you in the ass.

"Liffen," I said, thinking it was time to shift tactics. My lip was already getting swollen and puffy. "I'm done wiff thif shif. You want Kate? No pwobwem. She'f at her old apartment."

The Captain narrowed his eyes before unlocking his phone, preparing to level the place.

"But…" I blew out a sigh. "Before you go bwowing up the joint, how about I make it eaffy on you? I'll just go in and bwing her out. She'll be none the wiser, and there won't be no expwosions to expwain. No fuss. No muss. No getting your hands dirty."

He considered this a moment. "What about the database?"

I shrugged. "I may have wied about vat. The copy anyway. You can pwobabwy get the owiginal from Kate ftill."

The Captain's livid expression slipped into a grin. "You know, if you weren't such a pain in the ass, I probably would have offered you a job." He gave me a look that made me want to vomit. "A good one too."

"Yeah, well, ftory of my wife."

He laughed, slipped his phone back into his jacket pocket, and readjusted himself in his seat. Guess he thought things were turning up roses for the Injustice League.

He threw the van in gear, and the next thing I knew, we were headed to what I assumed was the apartment complex Izzy and I had snooped around a few days ago. At least the building wasn't seconds away from exploding, I thought in an effort to ward off some of the guilt starting to settle in my stomach.

Were there any other pros at the moment?

I decided not being dead yet was pretty high up on the list. So was saving Ranger and Izzy from getting buried under a building. Maybe the other innocent tenants too. But that's kind of where that happy list ended.

The rest sucked. I hadn't saved Anna, Kate and the girl were probably going to die, Captain America would probably continue using and abusing women, Les had taken a few bullets for me—possibly dead, _and_ I had never made the most of the perks of sharing a room with Ranger.

Huh.

Was it bad that last one made me slightly more depressed than the others?

Jeez, Plum, I scolded myself. You really need to get your priorities straight.

After a small eternity of driving and trying to keep a level head and not hyperventilate, we pulled into the lot behind the familiar building, and I glanced up at the floors of occupants. The complex wasn't completely dissimilar to the one I'd called home in Trenton. Maybe a little sketchier clientele and a little more rundown, but the overall feel of it was the same. A small, functional community.

Jeez.

It made me feel absolutely terrible for what I was about to do. Hope these guys had renter's insurance.

The Captain came around the side of the van and unlocked the door from the outside. I gave him a look. "You're probably going to draw a lot of attention with the mask." Especially walking around with a girl wearing fake dried blood, two black eyes, and a fat upper lip.

He shrugged. "This is DC, sweetheart. People do strange stuff here for no reason. I'll just say I was protesting something on Capitol Hill. Trust me, people won't care."

He probably had a point. Still, I was slightly bummed my plan at unmasking the villain hadn't worked liked I'd wanted it to. Not that it made that much of a difference, I guess. My chances of survival were growing slimmer by the minute.

I sighed as I hopped out of the van. Time to start thinking like Ranger and figuring out how to buy some time. Because I had a feeling mine was running out.


	45. Chapter 45

Apparently taking my comment to heart about drawing unnecessary attention, Captain America had us take the back stairwell up to the top floor. The hall was empty, quiet, and definitely not the situation I was hoping for. Living on my own, I'd read a handful articles on surreptitiously getting someone's attention if you were in a bad situation, and I was thinking now might be a good time to try out one of the clever little tactics. Unfortunately, I had a bad feeling they only worked if you had someone to notice them. And lucky me, I had no audience. Guess everyone was either out doing the whole 9 to 5 gig or running errands. Either that, or dozing with the retro TV channel playing in the background.

Gee. So much for my brilliant plan.

We continued down the hall probably looking like we'd just stepped off the set of Marvel's most recent blockbuster and came to a stop in front of the girls' door. The Captain grabbed my arm and squeezed. "Hold on a sec. I've had guys casing this place from the moment those girls bolted with the little DNA problem. If they're still here, why haven't I heard about it?"

I swallowed my nerves and gave him my most honest expression. "They've been hiding out in the basement," I offered. "Laying low until fings die down. Maybe a neighbo's been helping vem or sumphing."

Captain America narrowed his eyes. "Shouldn't we be in the basement then?"

My heart skipped a beat. "Thought we'd check this pwace first. Basement's are scawy and she's got the kid, wight?"

After an exasperated sigh, the Captain unlocked the door and popped it open. "You have two minutes to grab them and bring them out," he said, setting a timer on his watch. "Otherwise things are going to get ugly. Especially for you."

Oh goody.

I'd been hoping for a minimum of five minutes, but I guess two would have to do. I gave a nod and walked in.

Everything in the apartment looked pretty similar to the last time I'd seen it, which was a good thing. I made a beeline for the cute kitchen while pretending to call out to Kate, who obviously wasn't there, and quickly started unwinding the paper towel roll that still sat on the counter. If there is one thing I've learned from all the times my apartment has been blown up or set on fire is how quickly things burn. And maybe more importantly, even bogeymen aren't impervious to flames.

That was the good news. The bad news? Said bogeyman was armed with a gun and was also currently guarding my most viable escape route. And the _very_ bad news? This place was old and run down enough to probably not be up to code, which meant there was a rather high likelihood it was going to suffer some pretty extensive damage from an unanticipated fire. Meaning I was just moments away from displacing a lot of tenants from their happy homes.

Yeesh. Talk about your rock and hard place.

I took a deep breath, grabbed the match book sitting next to the candle on the stove, and started lighting matches like my life depended on it. Which it kind of did. As I moved through the kitchen like a skilled pyromaniac, I hoped there'd be enough of a flame and smoke screen at the end of my two minutes to keep a very angry Captain America from storming through the entryway and strangling me. Judging by how quickly the flames were spreading, this was a pretty good possibility.

I tossed a few tea towels into the mayhem and watched as the carpet in the hall started to burn. That's when the front door burst open.

I bolted for the bedrooms in the back just in time to hear the enraged yells of "bitch" and other unsavory terms fill the now blazing apartment. Guess I'd been right about the very angry Captain part. Actually, very angry was a bit of an understatement. The unbridled fury in his voice created a whole new level of terror that kept me scrambling to stay at least one step ahead of him.

As I slammed the bedroom door and started shoving any and every piece of heavy furniture in front of it, I realized the window that had quite possibly become my one and only escape route was a little on the smallish side. I slammed my palm against my forehead. Who the hell designed these apartments anyway? Mass murderers?

Oh well. Beggars can't really be choosers. If I was going to have to Winnie-the-Pooh it to not transform into a pile of human ash, then so be it. Truth be told, this wouldn't be the first time I'd had to battle with a small window, which really should have been motivation enough to reform my ways with dessert and donuts. I glanced down. Obviously it hadn't.

A loud thud rattled the door as I started tampering with the window's cryptic locking mechanism.

"No one messes with me," growled the low and terrifying voice from the other side. "I've already got a guy waiting for you outside. This is the end of the line, bitch."

My fingers trembled as I swallowed back a whimper. Until I remembered there was a very small chance I could have my own backup here soon. Backup with a short fuse and a lot of muscle. Not to mention a somewhat unhealthy concern for my safety and wellbeing. It was that slim shred of hope that kept me moving forward.

Surely Ranger had noticed by now that I'd taken an unexpected detour from the plan. And surely there was some kind of transmitter relaying my location from some unknown part of my body. My fingers surreptitiously brushed the base of my pants pocket hoping to find a foreign shape to verify my guess. Unfortunately I found no such reassurances.

I wiggled my toes around. Maybe it was in a shoe? Another series of furious thumps on the door made me realize I didn't have time to continue this round of "find the tracker." I was just going to have to assume help was on its way and trust that Ranger's "I've always got a plan" theory included contingency options for saving my troublesome ass.

Just as I thought I was getting the hang of the window lock, a piece snapped off it and tumbled to the floor. I gaped at it in horror and wondered why the universe always seemed so dead set against me. Hell, I was trying to do something good here. Shouldn't that have given me just a _smidge_ of good karma?

Apparently not.

Smoke was pouring into the room now, and I realized my assumptions about the building not being up to code were probably pretty accurate. I hadn't heard a single smoke alarm go off yet nor had any sprinkler systems been activated. Great. Hopefully one of the neighbors had smelled the smoke by now and thought to call the fire department.

I pulled my shirt up over my mouth and nose and decided it was time to switch tactics with the window. If the damn lock wasn't going to cooperate, I'd just have to smash through it with something heavy. Hell, I'd already started a fire. What was a shattered window added the damage list?

I fumbled around in the haze hoping to find something swingable and sturdy like a bat, but the base of a bedside lamp seemed the only thing remotely similar. It was shorter than I wanted it to be and more Walmart-grade metal than the industrial fancy stuff that frequently furnished Ranger's place, but at the moment I didn't care. The air was getting harder to breathe, and this was probably my last shot at getting out of here. I got into a good batters position and began channeling Home Run Steph from my grade school softball years. Then I pretended the window was the face of every scummy man who'd ever pissed me off.

The thing shattered on impact, and my body reverberated from the aftershocks of the blunt impact.

Once things settled, I stared at my handiwork and considered doing a happy dance, but it was at that same moment the scariest Captain America I'd ever seen came crashing through the barricaded door.

 _A/N: One good cliffie deserves another? Sorry guys. I honestly can't help it. The end is near? Ha, that's probably not reassuring either. Just realized I've been working on this story for almost a year... Home stretch. I promise. And it'll_ totally _be worth it-hopefully ;)_


	46. Chapter 46

The need to survive and pure, intense rage have some very interesting characteristics in common. They both seem to operate out of a more primitive part of the brain. No higher-level thinking or reasoning involved. You move and function on instinct alone, and that's precisely what happened when the Captain broke through that door.

He came at me like a tidal wave, his focus and energies intent on destroying my existence. And I jumped through that window. My sole focus being not to get dead.

My initial thought when I hit the rough metal of the fire escape on the other side was relief. I'd fit through the window. I'd survived. But then the whiz of bullets overhead reminded me survival was probably relative. A madman was still hot on my trail. Quite possibly one on the ground too.

I scrambled on hands and knees to the rickety ladder, my body shaking so bad, I missed half the rungs on my way down to the next level. The metal creaked and swayed beneath me, but I didn't have time to panic. Bullets were still pinging off the escape somewhere above my head, and I had a feeling it was going to take much more than my usual random stroke of luck to get out of this mess unscathed.

Then through the cacophony of the mayhem, I heard it. My miracle.

"Steph!"

Tears stung my eyes at the relief of that familiar sound. "Cutting it a wittle cwose, Batman," I called back. There was an exchange of gunfire I didn't dare look up to watch, and my heart stopped a moment. "Wanger?"

"That escape's broken, babe!"

Of course it was.

"You sure?" I tried to swallow back the fear in my voice.

More gunfire. "Pretty damn sure."

Great. "And?"

"My clip's about empty. I can't keep covering you. You're going to have to jump."

Oh boy.

Ironically, there was probably a time this whole jumping proposition would have been a dream come true for me. Back when I was eight and my sole ambition in life was to defy gravity and dance with the clouds. Years of natural consequences, however, had convinced me gravity was a heartless bitch and definitely held the upper hand when determining who could fly and who couldn't. Big surprise. I didn't make the list. Too much mass and weight and all that. Some cruel cosmic joke.

"You got a pwan B?" I called back. "Gwavity doesn't wike me."

"But I like you, so screw gravity." I glanced down and finally caught a glimpse of Ranger's face through the bars of the fire escape. His eyes were intense as always and filled with confidence. Maybe a subtle trace of warmth. "You can do this, Steph."

Something zipped by my ear, and I watched Ranger return fire. "It's go-time, babe. Don't think, just move."

I took a ragged breath and hoisted myself up against the rail. Kicked one leg over. Paused and tried not to let logic screw with my momentum. Carefully brought the other leg over. Then I closed my eyes and let go.

For a few terrifying and oddly exhilarating seconds I was in total freefall.

After a breathless eternity, I slammed against something strong and sturdy. Something warm. I opened my eyes. "I'm not dead," I said, gasping a sigh of relief.

Ranger brushed a quick kiss to my hair. Then he was running with me in his arms. "Hold that thought. I think backup's still a few minutes out, so we might have to get creative."

I didn't dare ask what he meant by "creative." At this point, I didn't want to know.

We collapsed in a heap behind a neighboring building, and I frowned when I noticed the damp spot on Ranger's dark shirt. "Cwap. Are you bweeding?"

He glanced down. Did some quick mental assessments. His eyes flicked back to me. "No."

I started to glance down at my own shirt.

"Why'd you come to the diner, Steph?" Ranger was turned slightly away from me, still studying the situation by the fire escape. Preparing for the boogeyman. Preparing to get "creative."

I glanced up. "I've fwequented a wot of diners. Fwaid you'll need to be mow specific."

" _The_ diner, babe. Our beginning. Why'd you come?"

My body was starting to hurt now. A mixture of one massive dull pain along with some pretty sharp smaller ones. "I needed help," I said, catching on to Ranger's game. "And I seem to wecall you were kind of the best."

I felt a sudden surge of panic. The situation must be pretty bad for Ranger to feel the need to distract me like this. My fingers twitched, part of me desperate to assess the damage, part of me terrified to do so.

"Bullshit."

I crinkled my face in disgust. "Excuse me?"

"I said bullshit. You had friends at the P.D., babe. Good friends. Friends with resources and know-how. You didn't need me. Not for bringing in skips."

"Well, I did if I wanted to wearn how to utiwize that 'gway awea' of the waw you were always talking about. You think Gazawa would've shown me that stuff?"

Ranger's mouth twitched. "You sound like Elmer Fudd."

"Fanks," I said, rolling my eyes. "But tuwnabout's fawer pway. Why'd _you_ come?"

He turned to look at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Almost smiling. "I owed Connie a favor."

"Oh. Wight." I made a face.

"But I agreed to help you because even back then I knew you saw right through me. I found it oddly refreshing."

"Refweshing?"

"In ways I couldn't even imagine. Nobody sees me quite like you do, babe."

I stared back at the dark mercenary; the hard, muscled man with the intense, pants-wetting stare and badass black wardrobe. I knew who he was, knew bits and pieces of who he used to be. I knew what he was capable of, and there was a time when all of it scared me. But never for the reasons it should have.

My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the echo of footsteps in the distance. Loud footsteps. Enraged footsteps. Ranger drew his gun and peered around the corner. His eyes locked on something he didn't like, and his jaw clenched. The "creative" comment had me wondering if he was out of ammo.

"Ah, Mr. Hombre," crooned a familiar voice. "Seems you're one of those annoying bad pennies. Didn't I already kill you today?"

I sucked in a breath as a singed and deranged looking Captain America rounded the corner, his gun raised and ready. "You've caused a lot of trouble for me today, bitch," he wheezed. His eyes locked on Ranger a moment before he made his decision and aimed the gun at me. "If I'm going down, I'm taking you with me."

A shot echoed off the surrounding brick walls. I gasped in surprise, half expecting to find a fresh bullet wound in my chest, but Captain America's body crumpled to the ground instead. The handle of a familiar knife protruding from his neck.

The world started to spin, and I doubled over in an attempt to alleviate the unbearably tight knot coiled in my stomach. I wretched and cringed when an intense pain tore through my abdomen. It was then I finally noticed the broken glass. And the blood.

"Oh," I gasped, collapsing against the building in shock.

Ranger's mouth was moving as he rushed over to me, but all I could hear were the sirens in the distance as my world faded to black.


	47. Chapter 47

_A/N: This next bit is intended as a dream sequence of sorts. I didn't lose my mind and start writing something random. ;)_

 _Once upon a time there was a girl. A brave adventurer who only ever wanted to see new things, find enough buried treasure to buy a closet to kill for, and slay a dragon. But even more than any of that, the adventurer desperately wanted to fly._

 _Her quests took her through the dark and treacherous lands of Expectation, Conformity, and Complacency where she slogged through swamps of Guilt and even married an ogre to appease her family and friends. The ogre was a loser. She kicked the ogre to the curb and swore to never let her standards fall that low again. Most days she was successful._

 _She continued on her way until she tumbled into the deep pit of Unemployment, and that's when things got interesting. That's when she first met the dragon._

 _From the moment she saw him, any and every preconceived notion she'd had about dragons went up in smoke (no pun intended). He was big and black and dangerous. The scariest thing she had ever encountered. One sharp look from him, and she was sure to burst into flame._

 _She pulled up her brave adventurer britches and approached him. The dragon stared at her with fiery eyes but didn't retreat. Instead they circled each other, a predatory dance of slow, careful assessment. Watching. Waiting._

 _The dragon struck first._

 _But it wasn't the kind of attack she had been expecting. It was…something else. Something far worse. Or perhaps something better._

 _The towering dragon knelt before her and slowly lowered his wings. He flashed his 200 watt dragony smile and asked the adventurer if she wanted to fly. Really fly. The dragon was tempting her with the one thing she wanted most._

 _But surely it was a trick. A trap. Dragons devoured adventurers. Swallowed them whole. This adventurer wasn't interested in becoming some stupid human hor d'oeuvre (especially after that whole debacle with the ogre), so she kept a safe distance from the dragon. Or so she thought._

 _But the dragon had already hit his mark. His offer haunted her. Plagued her thoughts, her dreams, her nightmares. It just had to be a trick. Had to be._

 _Didn't it?_

 _He was a dragon, for Pete's sake! A dark, dangerous, fire-breathing dragon that disappeared to God knows where to do God knows what. He lived by his own rules and kept his own council. What business did an adventurer have consorting with dragons anyway? It's not like she could tame him. Make him hers. Everyone knew dragons were never meant to belong to anyone._

 _But._

 _The magic of the dragon entranced her. Pulled her in like gravity. So she donned a suit of armor. Chained herself to the ground. She hid. She did everything she could think of to keep the dangerous dragon at bay, but none of it worked. The dragon was always just a breath away, his offer dangling like deadly bait on a string._

 _One day the adventurer grew weary, and her resolve weakened. One day the adventurer finally gave in._

 _Their flight was less than a second. Or maybe it only felt that way. Her toes eventually touched the ground, but her heart. Her heart would forever linger in the clouds. She felt liberated and intoxicated and completely delirious with excitement. That is until she noticed the dragon._

 _His face looked almost drawn, his eyes still dark and terrifying, but something strange flickered behind them. Something oddly human. She reached out her hand to stroke his face, curious. But the dragon recoiled at her touch and disappeared into the shadows. The adventurer watched the beautiful creature retreat and realized then the true danger of letting your guard down with a dragon. In just one moment, he could shatter your existence. In one beautiful moment, a dragon could break your heart._

 _She should have let that dragon be and let their story be what it was. But she didn't. She couldn't._

 _The adventurer couldn't forget the feeling of flying with him. And the dragon… God help him, he couldn't stay away. So they forged an unlikely alliance. A friendship. Fire and heart. And it was almost enough._

 _Almost._

 _Then one day, a cruel magic filled the land and the dragon began to disappear. His sleek, dark features once brilliant and larger than life started to fade. The adventurer worried about her companion. She brought him flowers and smoothed his rough scales._

 _"_ _What's wrong?" she asked, leaning her head against his broad, massive shoulder._

 _The dragon sighed, and curled his neck around her. "Do you so easily forget that I'm a dragon? I've seen and done terrible things. Things you can't even imagine. The magic has come to collect my debt."_

 _"_ _But isn't there anything to be done? Surely you can't just disappear." She leaned into him and listened to the steady sounds of his heart and lungs, but even as she listened, they seemed to grow quieter._

 _"_ _My heart has been stripped, dear adventurer. And I fear I cannot exist without it."_

 _"_ _Then we will have to repair it," she whispered, a tear sliding down her cheek._

 _The dragon stared at her, long and hard, and finally smiled. "Perhaps."_

 _And so the adventurer set out to try and fix the disappearing dragon. She whispered magical incantations to him. She sang him songs of the sea and sky. She told him stories. But the harder she tried, the faster he seemed to disappear._

 _"_ _This isn't working," she said one night as they watched the stars come out. "Everything I try fails. In fact, you're getting worse."_

 _The dragon was so tired and weak he could barely lift his head. "Hearts are…difficult."_

 _No truer words had been spoken._

 _"_ _I should leave," she whispered. "To protect you." To protect myself, she thought and hoped on all the magic in the world he couldn't hear her silent fears._

 _Without another word, she stood and set off into the night. The dragon turned to watch her go, heaved a weary sigh, but he didn't try to follow._

 _Years passed, and the adventurer saw many great and wonderful things. Met many magical creatures. She discovered that buried treasure and had all the adventures she'd dreamed of having. But at night, when the stars came out and the world was quiet, she always thought of the dragon._

 _No matter what she did, she couldn't forget flying._

 _Then one day she looked out her window, and just like that he was there again. The dragon stood outside her door, barely a whisper in the wind. Only a faint outline of the magnificent creature he'd once been._

 _"_ _I've come to say goodbye," he breathed._

 _She ran to him, and tried to wrap her arms around him, but the dragon was almost completely gone now. Nothing to touch. Nothing to hold on to. She stood where his great wings should have been and tried to focus on the whispering thumps of his heart._

 _"_ _I'm sorry I couldn't fix you," she sobbed. "I'm sorry if I made it worse."_

 _His face slowly disappeared until only the glimmer of his mouth and eyes remained. "You only ever made it better."_

 _"_ _But your heart," she protested._

 _The fierce eyes blinked once and were gone. "My dear adventurer," his fading mouth smiled. "Didn't you know? You've had it since the moment you chose to fly with me."_

 _She glanced down and slowly opened her hand. There, glowing in the center was…_


	48. Chapter 48

My eyes flitted open, and I squinted at the impossibly bright fluorescent lights humming overhead. Cool, crisp sheets covered my legs, plastic railings caged me in on both sides. A sudden rush of familiar. I was in a hospital bed.

A sharp pain made me wince as I craned my neck to take in more of my surroundings. There were all the standard machines. An IV drip. The oxygen monitor. And one badass Cuban ninja fast asleep in the chair next to me.

I think I wanted to smile then, but the overwhelming emotions made the tears come instead. The moment they spilled over and slid down my face, his eyes started to open. He stretched before moving the chair closer.

"How are you feeling?" His warm hand was suddenly curled around mine.

"Been better," I croaked, swiping at the tears. Long moments of silence passed as I let some of the cobwebs clear. "How's Les?"

Ranger's mouth twitched. "You're the one laid up in a hospital bed, and you're asking about Santos?"

I shrugged. "He took some bullets. Just wanted to make sure he wasn't pulling pranks in heaven now."

"The close range rounds gave him a cracked rib, but the vest did what it was supposed to." Ranger glanced down and ran a thumb across my knuckles. "Although I'm sure there's bound to be a good explanation, care to explain why you went rogue on me?"

I thought back to my van ride. The apartment. "There were some things in play I don't think you knew about. Once they had the location of the girls, they just planned to level the place. I didn't want to be responsible for slaughtering a group of people under a building, so I did what I do best. I improvised."

The statement suddenly reminded me of a rather disastrous consequence of said improvisation. "Did everyone make it out of the apartments okay?"

Ranger blew out a breath. Maybe a sigh. "A few of the residents were admitted for respiratory issues from smoke inhalation, but the rest came through unscathed. Other than you, of course."

I glanced down at my hospital gown. "How bad?"

Another smile played at the corner of his mouth, but I could tell it was forced. "Probably won't be wearing a bikini for a while, but the doc thinks you'll make a full recovery. Says you're pretty lucky that glass didn't slice through anything vital."

An uncomfortable moment lingered between us. We both knew I was lucky to be alive at all.

"Glad you figured out where I was," I said, leaning back into the pillows, sobered by yet another near-death experience. "Where was the tracker anyway?"

"Who says there was one?" His expression was impossibly serious, but I'd been around the game long enough to spot the joke.

"Ranger. There's _always_ a tracker. _Always_. So where was it this time? Sewn into the hem of my shirt? My sock? That funny little pocket in my jeans that I never know what to do with?"

"Cowboys used to use them for pocket watches."

Of course they did. Thanks Mr. Encyclopedia. I rolled my eyes. "Or a microscopic transmitter?"

His mouth twitched. "Not this time."

"Oh my gosh! You totally injected one under my skin while I was sleeping, didn't you?"

I tried narrowing my eyes, but the annoyed look didn't last very long. I could tell Ranger was enjoying the banter, and the flicker of humor was suddenly making him extra attractive. Especially with his eyes all soft like that. I was used to getting the soft-eye treatment after getting hurt, but it had been a long time since I'd seen the inside of a hospital. And even longer since I'd seen Ranger. The way he was staring at me was making my insides go a little gooey.

"If there's one thing I know about Stephanie Plum, she never goes anywhere without her underwear."

My jaw dropped. "You're telling me you gambled on the likelihood of me sporting a pair of panties?"

"Babe."

"Who says I didn't stop wearing them when I moved? You know, especially since I have this friend who swears by the whole commando thing. Maybe I thought it was time to try it out for myself; see what all the fuss was about."

Ranger leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "Or maybe some things never change."

"Maybe," I confirmed. "Some things." My eyes dropped to the bed as I started fidgeting with the sheets. "But some things _do_ change, you know. Maybe most things, actually."

It looked like he might have been about to say something to that, but before he got the chance, the door opened, and Izzy Manoso walked in looking sleek, sexy, and more than a little irritated.

"Plum." She tipped her Styrofoam coffee cup my direction. "Glad you're not dead."

Ranger gave her a look, and she held up her hands. "Sorry. That came out wrong. I've just spent the last several hours getting my hand slapped by my superiors for the massive shit storm headed our way. I mean, I can't say that I'm not relieved that George Whittaker's out of the picture now, but the man was a chameleon. Not to mention ridiculously good at covering his tracks. We've still got nothing on him. And without that database, this whole sting was kind of a bust. Which my boss not-so-subtly reminded me with a threat of being taken out of the field. You guys may very well be looking at the next paper-pusher at the precinct."

I crinkled my eyebrows in confusion. "Wait. _The_ George Whittaker? The eccentric billionaire with all the crazy political aspirations? That was Captain America?"

"One and the same. Now we know how he made some of his billions," Izzy grumbled. "Man, I _really_ wanted that database. Unfortunately it looks like I'll have to settle for taking out the kingpin instead." She shot a look at Ranger.

"Wait, you didn't find Kate?" I asked.

Izzy glanced from me to Ranger, and a flicker of an expression crossed her face like maybe she wished she hadn't said something.

"What?" I prodded. "What do you two know that you're not telling me?"

Ranger frowned. "Kate's body turned up in the river a few hours ago, babe. We think one of Whittaker's thugs spotted her out trying to get meds for the girl. Given the severity of the situation, the orders were probably to kill on sight."

The sting of tears pricked my eyes. "And what about the girl? Was she with her?"

He shrugged. "Hard to say. She hasn't turned up yet."

"And Anna?" Remembering back to the Italian house of horrors, my stomach did a queasy flip-flop.

Izzy rubbed her eyes like she didn't want to think about the answer. "She's not in the best shape, but she made it out of there thanks to the help of the Rangeman operatives we had on site. Lost the damned league of deranged super heroes in the process though." Her fists suddenly clenched at her sides. "I _hate_ how smart Whittaker was. That sick bastard had contingency plans for his contingency plans. Always one step ahead."

Ranger leaned a little closer to me. "Izzy likes it better when the bad guys are morons, but if they all were, she'd probably be out of a job."

I thought about smiling when Izzy shot him a dirty glare. "I might be out of a job anyway. And don't think I'm above putting you in your place in front of your girlfriend here, Carlos. I've got just two words for you: Aunt Rosa's."

Ranger readjusted in his chair and cleared his throat. "That never happened."

"Oh, it happened alright."

"What happened?" I cut in.

Izzy pulled out her phone and started flicking her thumb across the screen. She came over to the bed and tipped the phone my direction. It was a snapshot of an old Polaroid. A photo of a thin, dark-skinned boy stripped down to his tighty-whiteys, his face done up with enough makeup to qualify for a Jersey beauty pageant. He was sporting a fake sash and tiara along with a very familiar murderous glare.

I choked back a laugh as I snuck a glance at Ranger, but his expressions were currently on lockdown. Should've known. Ranger doesn't humiliate easily.

"Thanks, Iz. I'll be sure to return the favor sometime." The look he gave her made me start sweating bullets even though I knew it wasn't meant for me. It made me wonder what sibling retaliation looked like in the Manoso household. Yikes!

Izzy smiled. "Something to look forward to." She shoved the phone back in her pocket and smoothed her perfect, unwrinkled button-up. "I've gotta go make some calls. Make sure the world doesn't self-destruct and all that. Guess I'll catch up with you two later."

She took her leave, and then it was just the two of us again. Fire and heart.

"When do you think I can check out of here?" I asked. Judging by the dull aches and pains in my stomach and the lingering hazy feel, I had a feeling it might be a while.

Ranger shrugged. "Depends."

"On what? How fast I heal?"

"On whether the doctor agrees to the transfer of your care."

"Like to a medical professional in Idaho?"

Ranger gave me a look. "That'd be clear across the country. I was thinking more along the lines of Bobby in Jersey."

I crinkled my nose. "That's interesting. I don't recall signing up for the Rangeman hospitality package."

"You didn't sign up for the tripped out Marvel experience either. If it makes it any more palatable, it'd be as temporary as you want it to be."

The soft eyes had disappeared. I was pushing some major buttons here and I knew it, but I'd been perfectly clear with my expectations before we'd set out on this wild and crazy adventure. Which suddenly reminded me of something.

"I want to see it," I blurted.

Ranger's mouth twitched as his eyes went a little darker. "'Fraid you'll have to be a little more specific with that request."

Oh good grief! "The hearing device. You've got one, right?"

He gave a subtle nod. "Two, actually." The seductive look slipped away as he reached up and did something to his ears. He stood and moved closer to the bed, holding two freakishly small and round tech-y devices in the palm of his hand.

"Wow," I said. "Those are really…small."

He looked down. "Got them a few months after you left. Top of the line." His mouth curled up on one side. "Had a contact who owed me a favor."

I glanced up. "An ear specialist owed you a favor?"

"Babe."

It was pointless to ask what he meant by that, so I kept the rest of my questions to myself.

"You could have told me," I finally said.

He popped the hearing aids back in place and took a seat next to the bed again. "Could've done a lot of things back then, babe. That's not what happened."

"So…what now?"

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Giving me a look that totally freaked me out. "Now's entirely up to you."

Ah, jeez. Of course it was. And I think deep down I knew the now I really wanted. In fact, maybe I'd always known. I glanced down at my hand wrapped around nothing but some silly medicated dream and leaned back into the pillows. My mouth opened, almost ready to spill my guts, but at the very last moment I chickened out. "I think for the immediate now I need a nap. It's way more exhausting than you'd think burning down a building."

Ranger's mouth twitched. He didn't have anything to say to that.


	49. Chapter 49

I woke with a start, disoriented and confused. And with the added fun of my subconscious needling me. There was something important I was supposed to remember.

My hospital room was empty, which meant Ranger was probably out solving problems or catching up with important things back at Rangeman, so I sat in the silence, twisting the bedsheets, trying to remember the sudden revelation that had pulled me from my sleep.

There'd been a thing about fairies or fairytales or something. A dream of flying. And adventures. But there'd been something else too. Something I think I'd realized before the showdown with Captain America.

Then I remembered.

I sat straight up in bed, and promptly doubled over at the pain searing through my abdomen. Shit. The cuts from the glass were still tender. I glanced down and wondered just how bad my situation was. Because I knew I was about to do something against doctor's orders. And probably more than a little on the stupid side.

I carefully undid my remaining monitors and kicked my legs over the side of the bed. Dangled them there a moment trying to decide if this was really my best option. I knew I should probably wait for Ranger, but I also knew that the matter at hand was time sensitive—the important stuff always was. Glancing at the clock on the wall, I took a deep breath and decided to go for it.

I gingerly pulled on some of the clothes Ranger must have brought by and poked my head out the door. There was the usual bustle of nursing activity, but for the moment, things seemed slow. People were occupied at the nursing station, and there were no Rangeman operatives standing guard outside my door. What were the odds?

I took the opportunity and snuck down the corridor to the side stairwell, and before I knew it, I was back on ground level, breathing fresh air outside. Unfortunately, it was then I realized my predicament. No money. No credit cards. I needed to get back to the apartment complex, but without a mode of transportation or money to hire one, I was pretty much screwed.

There was a bus stop close to the hospital, and I decided it was probably my best bet. I made my way over, hunched a bit trying not to aggravate the cuts and stitches in my stomach. It was no easy task considering you use those darn core muscles for just about everything. There were a few people waiting there already, and I was just about to take a seat on the bench to give my body a break when I heard a familiar pattern of footsteps hurrying toward me.

Didn't even need to glance up to know who it was. And he didn't even have to catch his breath before talking. Show off.

"I leave the room for twenty minutes, and you pull a Houdini on me. I'm not sure whether to be annoyed or impressed."

I didn't dare look up at him. "There's something I need to do, and I need to get back to the girls' apartment complex."

His frustration spiked at my response. "Stephanie, you have incisions that are less than 24 hours old. The only place you need to be is back in that hospital room getting pampered by the medical staff."

"Agreed. But after I run this errand." I glanced up, and my eyes locked with his. "It's important."

Ranger doesn't sigh like normal people. Any response remotely linked to emotion is usually a fraction of what you might expect. So when any other human would have rolled their eyes and blew out an exasperated breath at me for being obnoxious and indignant, Ranger just breathed an unusually long breath through his nose.

It was almost endearing.

He pulled out his phone and made a quick call. Five minutes later, a nondescript black SUV pulled up at the curb, and Ranger motioned for me to get in. He helped me recline my seat to alleviate some of the pressure on my wounds before having a quick conversation with the driver—a Rangeman guy I'd never met before—and angling into the driver's seat.

He glanced over at me. "This better not be over a missing purse."

"But it's got my favorite lip gloss," I mock protested.

Ranger gave me a look, and I held up my hands. "Whoa. That was a joke. Can't you lighten up a little?"

Another long breath through his nose, and I figured it was time to cut my comedy routine. We pulled up to the complex a short drive later, and I cringed a little at the clean-up crews still working on the fire damage. Ranger glanced over at me. "You did what you had to, babe. It's not your fault."

"It's _totally_ my fault," I said, rolling my eyes. "I lit the match and burned down an apartment building."

"I wouldn't say burned _down…"_ I made a face. "You were minimizing losses. Besides, I heard some anonymous donor is taking care of the damage costs."

My jaw dropped. "Seriously?"

Ranger shrugged. "It's a good write-off for taxes."

Even though it really shouldn't have, the not-so-anonymous donor bit made me feel a little better about everything. So did the smile I got when I told Ranger he shouldn't go throwing money around like that. Pretty sure his smile can make just about anyone feel better.

I half-walked, half-stumbled my way inside with the help of Ranger as my crutch. We made our way up to the girls' floor via the elevator that was miraculously still in operation. I walked past their apartment and on to one of the neighbors, knocked a few times, and waited.

Nothing.

I blew out a breath and considered my options. Until I remembered who was standing right next to me. "Hey, you think you could…you know…" I nodded to the door handle. "We need to get inside."

Ranger just barely touched the door, and the thing popped open. My look of astonishment earned me an almost laughed "babe."

"You're going to teach me that trick someday, right?" I asked as we walked inside.

He shrugged. "Depends."

"On?"

"The answer to a question."

"If I can keep a secret?" I joked.

"That too."

I raised an eyebrow but quickly got distracted by my search. I scoured all the rooms and found nothing while Ranger watched me from one of the doorways. "It might help if I knew what you were looking for."

I blew out a sigh. "Toys. Clothes. I don't know. Does it look like there was a kid living here to you? A young one? Three. Four. Something like that?"

He quirked a brow. "You think that little girl was here?"

"I thought Kate _and_ the girl were both staying here at some point, but I guess it was just a feeling. Something about when I talked to the neighbor lady who lived here. Like she was hiding something, or…oh, I don't know!" I threw my hands up in exasperation. "Obviously I was wrong. There's nothing here!"

I kicked the garbage can in the kitchen, and cursed under my breath when the contents dumped all over the floor. Ranger knelt down and started scooping up the mess and paused a moment when he came across something that caught his attention. He held up a used pediatric pen needle and insulin cartridge.

"Looks like maybe that theory wasn't so farfetched after all, babe."

 _A/N: For Michelle. Thanks for being an encouraging reader and an even better friend :)_


	50. Update

Update: for those of you following this story, my apologies for keeping you in limbo for so long. My couple weeks off turned into a bit more than that for a number of reasons, but mostly because I recently found out that I'm going to be a mom again, and my energy levels have been...well, for lack of a better term, nonexistent. I'm starting to feel better these days-thank goodness-so I'm hoping to wrap up the story soon. Thank you all for your support, patience, and kind words. I always love writing on here :)


	51. Chapter 51

Bingo!

I stared at the empty vial and crinkled my nose. "Call me a slacker, but I'm a little tired of playing who-dunnit today. What are the odds if I say some clever magic words that the little girl will just appear out of nowhere, all giggles and curls ready to shut this whole thing down once and for all?"

Ranger shrugged. "Guess it couldn't hurt."

Not entirely sure if he was joking, I muttered "abra cadabra" under my breath and waited for a miracle. Unfortunately, miracles tend to run in random microbursts when your name happens to be Stephanie Plum, and I was pretty sure I'd already met my quota for miraculous happenings for the week. Quite possibly for the next decade, in fact.

I sighed. "Let's say divine intervention doesn't have my back today. Any inspired ideas where they could be?"

Ranger pulled out his cell to make a couple calls. "Unfortunately, the grid of possibility is still pretty wide," he said waiting for the line to connect. "I'll have some of my guys check a few local parks and drug stores. Maybe check in with some friends to see if the neighbor's been crashing elsewhere while the fire situation is being resolved."

Wasn't a bad idea. Very methodical. Very Ranger. Except my gut was already pulling me in a different direction. Especially with the minimal signs of the girl at the apartment. "Have them check train stations and airports too, would you? Kate's disappearance probably spooked the neighbor. Maybe she's trying to get the girl out of the area. Make sure she's safe." Considering the circumstances, I know I would.

Ranger nodded. "I like your thinking."

Given the way he'd been looking at me lately, I was starting to wonder if my brain and its thought capacity weren't the only things he liked. And taking the time to officially recognize this made my insides go a little gooey.

Speaking of insides…

I slumped onto the ratty couch in the living room and tried to block out a sudden wave of abdominal pain. Wasn't working all that well though. Which was kind of a problem. Because Batman was already giving me "the look."

"Looks like the field trip's over, babe. Time to get back to the hospital."

"But my spidey sense is still tingling," I protested. "They're close. _Really_ close. I can feel it."

His lips tightened into a small frown, a flicker of concern etched in his eyes. "That's gonna have to be a problem for someone else." He crossed the room and offered a hand to help me off the couch, but I bat it away.

"It's _my_ problem! They probably wouldn't even be in this mess if I didn't light that damn apartment across the hall on fire! Probably led those scum bags straight to them." A couple rogue tears snuck down my cheek. Ranger knelt down to wipe them away.

"None of this is your fault, babe. If anyone's to blame here, it's me. I should've had this wrapped up with Izzy days ago."

"How about five more minutes and I forgive you your _obvious_ shortcomings?" I prodded, hoping to lighten the mood a little while simultaneously taking advantage of the brief moment of sympathy.

He quirked a brow in return. "Nice try."

You can't really blame a girl, right?

I finally took the offered hand and mostly resigned myself to the fact it was time to leave well enough alone. At least for the moment. Besides, Ranger was right. People were already at work on this, and those people probably had much better resources than a tripped out spidey sense. Well, at least in theory. So, with that in mind, we vacated the premises and made our way back to the hospital.

The drive back was short and silent with Ranger doing his typical Zen routine while I was atypically lost in thought, racking my brain for the elusive lightbulb that would reveal the whereabouts of the girl. Unfortunately that lightbulb never came. Maybe it was a lost cause after all.

Ranger assisted getting me back up to my room, which I considered a kind and friendly gesture up until the moment he threatened me with handcuffs and sedatives if I didn't stay put this time. I responded with one of my usual eyerolls, which earned me a kiss to my forehead and a slightly intimidating "I mean it" before he disappeared out into the hall to deal with what I assumed was some Rangeman business. I'm not exactly a huge fan of being told what to do, but given the fact my insides were still screaming, I decided not to press my luck.

A nurse dropped by a little later to check on me. Someone had left me a handy little stack of gossip magazines (which I assumed I had either Ranger or one of his merry men to thank), so I only half-listened as the nurse went about her routine, checking my vitals and healing incisions. She didn't seem particularly concerned with anything, so when she asked about pain management, I said I was game for just about anything. In fact, a nice medicated nap sounded like a brilliant idea.

It wasn't until a few minutes after I popped the pills she handed me that I realized something was off. The room started to go a little fuzzy, and my tongue felt heavy and a little thicker than usual. I opened my mouth to say something, but I couldn't find my voice.

"Shhh…" the nurse soothed from the suddenly blurry background. "I think you and I need to a have a little chat, and I can't exactly do that with your shadow always lurking about. Whadya say we go somewhere a little more private?"

I started to protest until I realized the faint flicker of recognition my brain was still struggling to send me. Behind the haircut, hair dye, and makeup, my nurse almost resembled…

I gave a dopey grin as she helped me into the wheelchair. "You're supposed to be dead, you know?" I snickered, highly amused the old abra cadabra trick had actually worked. Well, sort of anyway.

"I'm supposed to be a lot of things," she replied, wheeling us out into the surprisingly empty hall. "Let's just say I know people. And I know the right currency to get things done."

I'll say. Ranger could move like a shadow and become invisible if necessary. But Kate… Kate could take it one step further. Kate could become completely nonexistent.

And at the moment, I couldn't tell if that was a good thing or a very, very bad one.

 _A/N: First of all, I was completely blown away by all the heartfelt responses I received after my last post. Wow! There may have been some tears and sniffles (although that could've been the hormones at work too...). You all are such fantastic people! Inspirational. Thank you for all your kind words and congratulations. This chapter is for all of you, but specifically for the "M" people in my life-you know who you are. You make me smile all the time, and you also make me want to set and achieve goals. Thanks for being first-class cheerleaders and incredibly dear friends. More chapters to come...soon. With any luck, I'll finish well before baby arrives :) Hope you all enjoy!_


	52. Chapter 52

My tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth when the cobwebs finally started to clear again. I scanned my surroundings and found them not to be overly unpleasant, which I took as a good sign. Boxes of medical supplies filled the shelves surrounding me, which led me to believe we'd be conducting our unfinished business in a supply closet. Not terribly clever nor all that secure, but it was definitely a step up from the other places I'd been in recently.

My new friend, "Nurse" Kate, was sitting across from me, watching the door while slipping a discreet look at her watch every few minutes.

"We on a time crunch or something?" I slurred, readjusting my posture while stretching out some kinks in my muscles.

Her eyes suddenly locked on mine. "Only if your little boy toy gets twitchy and ruins everything. Which I have a feeling he might very well do when he realizes you're not in your room anymore. No offense, but that guy's got issues."

She had no idea…

I gave her a lopsided grin. "He's just not a fan of the whole Houdini act. Thinks it's dangerous. Especially when I'm involved. And let's be fair here, he might be right."

A slow smile worked its way across her face. "I knew I liked you. Good sense of humor. Way better than that cop lady anyway."

I fought back a smirk. It probably wasn't all that hard to bypass Izzy in the humor department.

"Wish I could say the same for you, but you're not exactly giving off Bobo the Clown vibes at the moment." I glanced down at my wrists that were handcuffed together. "You know, especially with the whole abduction bit. It's not really helping your case here, I'm afraid."

Kate made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat as she stood. "You think I _wanted_ to do all that? That I'd willingly choose this life if I had it to do all over again? That I enjoy sneaking around in the shadows, manipulating every damn detail just to stay one hair's breadth ahead of all this shit?" She laughed. "Lady, I'm tired. So _unbelievably_ tired, you have no idea. But I'm nowhere near out of the woods yet."

Right. Couldn't say that didn't make sense. "But how exactly does all of this involve me?" I asked.

Kate stared at me for a long minute before breaking into a grin. "You must be one helluva poker player. That face you've got on makes you look completely clueless."

Yeah…except it wasn't exactly a face. I literally had no idea what she was talking about. "Let's say hypothetically I'm terrible at poker. Mind spelling this all out for me? Maybe in nice clear, simple terms." I shrugged my shoulders and flashed her a smile. "Just for fun."

Kate gave me another one of her pointed stares before continuing. "It's like that lady in that Greek wedding movie said. You know, about men thinking they're in charge and all, but really it's the women that have the power and sway."

Damn. Whatever drugs she'd slipped me earlier were obviously messing with my higher brain functions. "I'm afraid I don't follow."

"You're cute, you know that?" Kate straddled a box on the floor. "Your boyfriend's got a fancy street name, right? Ranger?"

"I don't know if I'd go so far as to call it fancy," _Or that he would be classified as my boyfriend-_ I replied. "But yeah, he goes by that name fairly frequently. Why?"

"The one thing I know really well is men, sweetheart. And I know for a fact _that_ man's got resources."

Well, she had a point there. Ranger had access to all sorts of networks and financial institutions that probably ran a bit more "gray side of law" than I ever wanted to admit. He could literally snap his fingers and things happened. Kate had apparently done her homework.

"Why not have a little chat with him then if you think he's got what you want?"

She stared at me. I stared at her. There was lots of drawn-out, uncomfortable staring. Then the synapses finally stopped stalling or misfiring or whatever they were doing, and the proverbial lightbulb finally came on. "You want me to persuade him to help you," I stated.

"Honey, with the way that man looks at you, there won't be a whole lot of persuading involved. You just gotta give him a sweet, little kiss and ask nicely."

Wait. "What?"

Kate pulled a small sheet of paper from her pants pocket and tucked it neatly under my bra strap. "I've made sure the demands aren't complicated. Well, not for someone like him anyway. And since I'm supposed to be dead and all, I'd appreciate a little discretion."

She glanced down at her watch again. "Looks like we're just about out of time." She pulled a cigarette from her other pocket and lit it with the finesse of a Hollywood actress from days gone by. Took a few puffs and held it up to the sprinkler in the ceiling. The alarm kicked in moments later.

Kate slipped out of the closet like the ghost she was—or wasn't, and seconds later, Ranger slipped in. "What part of stay in your room and recover don't you understand?" he asked, popping the cuffs off my wrist like they were something you'd find in a joke shop. It was kind of sexy.

I tossed my shoulders in a shrug and flashed him my best innocent expression. "It wasn't my fault."

"Never is."

"Someone wanted to send you a message," I continued.

Ranger pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and tapped it on my knee. "Pretty sure this thing works just fine. Why all the theatrics with you?"

"Apparently because I've got a good sense of humor."

His mouth twitched. "So what's the message then?"

I glanced down. "I think it's tucked in my shirt somewhere."

Ranger's eyes dilated from brown to black as he followed my gaze. "If this is some ploy to have me feel you up in a medical supply closet, I'm all for it. In fact, I wouldn't mind taking it a step further either."

Oh boy.

I tried to temper the warm, gooey feeling now coursing through my veins as I fumbled around my bra to search for Kate's request list. Ranger frowned when I finally handed it over. "Damn. You were serious."

"Of course I was serious."

He flashed me a look that made me wish I'd taken advantage of his previous offer. "Too bad."

We made our way out of the closet and followed the masses towards the fire exits. I'm not sure what possessed me to do it, but I suddenly had the urge to play with a completely different kind of fire.

"Maybe next time I'll let you be the one to find the secret message," I smirked, moving ahead of Ranger on the stairwell.

He caught me by the shoulder and pulled me back to whisper against my ear. "Or maybe next time I'll let you find _my_ secret message."

My knees went a little weak then, and I practically burst into flames on the spot.


	53. Chapter 53

_A/N: My apologies. My plans for kicking my feet up and relaxing with some writing while pregnant didn't exactly pan out as expected. But as a gift to all of my OBSCENELY patient readers, I'm giving you TWO whole chapters for Christmas! Yay! Hope you all enjoy and have a wonderful holiday season! With any luck this story will be all wrapped up in a few chapters, and then we can all sigh in relief ) Thanks for sticking with me. You all are the best!_

Much to my disappointment, Ranger's interest in giving me a full-body search lasted about as long as it took us to evacuate our wing of the hospital. After that, it was back to business as usual with focusing on my recovery and figuring out what to do about Kate's impromptu wish list. Based on Ranger's typical expressionless demeanor, I couldn't really tell how much of it he was planning on complying with, especially considering he rarely responded well to manipulation and coercion—quite possibly never. And, you know, there was also the fact I don't think he was particularly fond of how Kate had gone about submitting her requests either.

That being said, he also didn't immediately throw the piece of paper in the trash. Maybe throughout this whole ordeal the girls had somehow endeared themselves to him, or maybe more likely, he was debating how he could use it as leverage to get them to testify for Izzy's case. Either way, he spent a lot of time over the next few days on his phone and even more time disappearing to talk with Izzy and her team.

Meanwhile, I spent that time trying not to go stir crazy in my recovery room.

This became increasingly difficult, especially after Hector dropped by one day with some wrist monitor thingy that alerted freaking grand central any time I stepped foot out of my room. And it probably wouldn't have been half so bad except for the fact such "indiscretions" resulted in members of the Rangeman SWAT brigade showing up and demanding to know what the hell was going on. And unfortunately "mind your own damn business" didn't appear to be an acceptable response.

Joke was on them though.

By the third time I tripped the system—so sue me for wanting to know if Nurse Heather was going to kick her bum of a boyfriend to the curb—I started keeping stats on their response times. Whoever took the longest to "come to my rescue" had to do the Cosmo compatibility quiz with me. All's fair, right?

Along with my new little game I invented, I was also lucky enough to have a surprise visitor help break up the monotony of recovery life. Lester dropped by my room a few times during my hospital stay, mostly because he wanted to apologize for being a jackass (his words, not mine) and leaving me with a grade-A, deranged psychopath. I told him this wasn't exactly out of the norm for me, and that I harbored no hard feelings especially considering he'd taken a few bullets and all, but this didn't seem to do much by way of making him feel any better.

That is until I switched tactics and filled him in on the gossip from the nurses' station. After a few rounds of plotting, we made a friendly bet he couldn't seduce Nurse Heather by the time his ribs healed. I of course knew I would lose because Lester Santos possessed the uncanny ability to seduce just about any red-blooded and breathing female on the planet (a success rate only rivaled by Ranger, I'd imagine), but that guy sure seemed like he could use the ego boost. It was the least I could do.

And I wasn't disappointed either. Nurse Heather was sporting a very familiar satisfied smile by the time I was signing my hospital release and transfer-of-care paperwork. I had to admit, I was a little jealous. Maybe a little depressed too.

Ranger and I still hadn't had much of a chance to settle the dust that was still lingering—quite possibly even smoldering—between us, and considering his initial reaction to my plans to return to Idaho, I'd expected more resistance when I arranged for everything to be transferred back to my doctor in the bustling metropolis of Boise.

To my surprise, he didn't do a damn thing. No yelling. No debate. No long, intense stare implying I was being a child. Hell, he didn't even flex his jaw muscle like he usually did when he was miffed.

Of course, this somehow inevitably made me feel worse. Like maybe I should have just let Ranger play the doting caregiver and drag me back to Trenton where he'd set me up in one of the immaculate Rangeman suites with the 24-hour comforts that I'd once routinely fantasized about. The more I toyed with the thought, the more I criticized myself for being a first-class idiot. That is until I remembered the reasons why I'd left in the first place.

Sure on this crazy journey I'd managed to discover a very plausible reason as to why Ranger had neglected to reciprocate my proclamation of love the last time we were together, and of course I knew he still cared about me. Hell, he'd even come right out and said he loved me! But at the end of the day, something in the back of my head was still questioning whether that was going to be enough for us. I mean, I'd gone the whole "deeply caring about someone" route before, and we'd been stuck in such a deep rut of convenience and routine that we'd stayed in the same exact place for years. And it took me just as long if not longer afterwards to realize how extremely unhealthy it all had been.

What if Ranger and I were destined for the same fate?

Also, I suppose my ultimate fear (quite possibly the driving force for all the doubt in the first place) was that once the intense attraction started to fizzle between us, as it inevitably would at some point—maybe, Ricardo Carlos Manoso, god among men, would tire of the disaster of a woman that was and still is me and leave. I mean, it wasn't entirely unfathomable, especially considering his track record of lengthy gigs with women was practically nonexistent.

Ranger was the quintessential lone wolf. Rugged, raw, and untamed. The very things that made him sinfully attractive also ironically made him quite possibly the worst candidate for relationship material. And everyone seemed aware of this undeniable fact but me.

Besides, what the hell was I doing entertaining thoughts of a relationship anyway? It's not like Ranger had really said anything about it. Maybe he just wanted me back in Trenton to keep a closer eye on me, wanted things back to what they had been before. Maybe in some strange way all my endless shenanigans offered a kind of stability to his life. The inconsistent constant that provided both purpose and entertainment, which I thought I liked being at some point in the past; a salve for the dark wolf's tortured soul.

Now I wasn't so sure.

Now I wanted to know with absolute certainty that I was the adventurer holding the dragon's heart. Because the secret I'd been harboring from both Ranger and myself since the very beginning of this adventure was that I knew the very moment I saw him back in Idaho that he was still in possession of all of mine.


	54. Chapter 54

Not too long after my brilliant yet horrid epiphany, I found myself standing on a private air strip, waiting with my Cuban Rambo and a suitcase that made me feel like I belonged in some sort of heart-pounding, Hollywood espionage thriller. So much so in fact, I was still half expecting some tinted-windowed black sedan to pull up with guns blazing. Much to my disappointment however, a fairly normal looking silver Honda Civic pulled up a few minutes later instead.

Three women, a child, and the one and only Izzy Manoso climbed out and soon joined me and Ranger on the tarmac. Izzy raised an eyebrow at her brother, completely ignoring my presence per what I had come to understand as her usual. At least when it came to me.

"You sure about all this?" she asked, giving a subtle nod over her shoulder at the band of girls. "This is a major investment for a court testimony. Even for you."

Ranger didn't respond. Instead he gestured to me to hand over the suitcase, locking eyes with Kate as I did. "It's all there," he said, completely void of emotion. "The passports, the money, the passes." He paused, his tone growing slightly darker and more serious. "I've even gone so far as to procure you a very safe and reliable escort to see you back to the States when the time comes."

"I'm sure you did," Kate smirked, taking a step forward and accepting the case. "Good doing business with you, Mr. Manoso." She stuck out her hand to shake on it, and just like that, their business arrangement was a done deal.

After the handshake, Ranger reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a small card. "If you ever find yourself hanging around Jersey, look me up. My company could always use someone with your levels of…creativity. Plus, I'm told the benefits aren't half-bad."

My jaw dropped. Aren't half-bad, my ass!

I shot him a look that probably wasn't as subtle as I'd intended, but seriously? Rangeman benefits weren't just decent, they were damn near legendary. I mean, what kind of paycheck has that many zeroes when you're just doing menial crap like pretending to know how to use a bunch of fancy computer databases? I'll tell you how many I've come across in my time fighting in the trenches of rat-race America. Zero. Zip. Absolutely none. If Ranger was offering you a job with his company, you'd be a fool not to take it.

I let that thought sink in for a moment.

While I was still pondering my past and current levels of foolishness, I felt something similar to a boa constrictor suddenly encircle my leg. I glanced down and found a curly mop of hair and a pair of chubby cheeks grinning up at me, arms wrapped around me in a death grip.

"Uh, hi," I stammered, still not entirely sure what to do with children despite the fact I had four nieces. She giggled. "That's a cute bear you have there," I offered. She squeezed him while somehow still managing her impossibly strong grip on my legs. Kids were a curious breed.

I flashed Ranger one of those "I may need a little help here" glances, and his mouth twitched. Then something happened that made me question my grip on reality. Ranger's stone-cold, expressionless façade was momentarily replaced with a heart-melting smile as he swung the little girl off her feet amidst a flood of giggles. He tipped her back and blew raspberries on her exposed stomach, pulling her upright to a round of nonstop pleas for "more, more, more."

Pretty sure my mouth was stuck open like a stupid, hooked fish.

"One more time," he conceded to my continued surprise. "But I need to see your bear real quick first." She handed over the stuffed, raggedy thing without a single moment of hesitation. Ranger plucked at the seam on its back before removing something small and discreet, dropping it surreptitiously into his pocket as he handed the girl back her bear and tipped her backward again. He gave a subtle nod over at Kate who returned the gesture.

The copy of the database. Clever. Why hadn't I thought of that?

Ranger set the girl back on her feet and tousled her hair. "Have fun making friends with the giant rodent in Florida, kid," he said, pushing the girl back toward the group of women. The neighbor that had been their protector and friend intercepted her with a hug and offered Ranger a warm smile.

"You are an incredibly kind man," she said, tears welling in her eyes. "We can't thank you enough."

The cool, expressionless façade returned, and Ranger shrugged. "No thanks necessary. It was all just a business transaction." She gave a reluctant nod of understanding as she shuffled towards the small plane with Anna, Kate, and the girl.

Izzy rolled her eyes at her brother. "Business transaction, my ass. You're making me look like the mean one."

"You _are_ the mean one."

Her mouth did one of those famous Manoso twitches before she turned and followed the girls. "Guess someone has to be," she called over her shoulder. She paused just as she reached the stair ramp and did an about-face. "I'll take that thumb drive now, if you don't mind. I've got a whole team of people anxious to blow this thing wide open before the scurrying rats all slink back into the shadows again."

Ranger thought for a moment. "My guy needs to see it first. I'll drop it by later tonight."

Izzy looked slightly miffed for a moment, but she shrugged it off before returning to the plane and climbing the stairs, giving a fake salute as the door closed behind her. Ranger and I moved back to where we'd parked our car and watched as the small plane lifted into the sky.

"Giant rodent in Florida, huh?" I asked, trying not to make eye contact.

"It was on Kate's list. A nonnegotiable, apparently."

Really? "What else was on her list?"

He shrugged. "The usual. Money. Fake ID's. A chance to start over."

"And you just did all that?"

"Izzy wanted the testimony. It seemed like a win-win."

Uh huh.

Suddenly an SUV with tinted windows pulled onto the tarmac, and my heart gave an involuntary flutter. As far as I knew, we weren't expecting anybody else at this bon voyage party.

The vehicle parked next to us, and I relaxed a little once I realized Ranger wasn't in combat mode. A thin, balding Hispanic man with square glasses stepped out of the SUV and crossed over to Ranger where they proceeded to do one of those complicated man-handshake things. He rattled off some quick words in Spanish before offering me his hand in greeting. "Nice to meet you," he said in flawless English, no trace of an accent.

"Likewise," I managed to sputter out despite my ongoing state of shock. Who _was_ this guy?

"Everything go according to plan then?" he asked, turning back to Ranger. "There were lots of eager helpers when I called in those favors. You always did have a way with people." His chuckle was oddly warm and charming, and I kind of liked the guy even without knowing a single thing about him.

"Your work was flawless as always," Ranger replied. Then he quirked a brow. "Your fee still the same, or have you upped your going rate recently?"

The man grinned. "My oldest has a new boyfriend. Think you could make him disappear?"

Ranger's mouth twitched. "Sorry, I've got enough trouble with Julie these days. You're on your own with that one." He handed over the thumb drive from his pocket. "Let me know what you come across on here. I'll be in touch."

They did another complicated fist thing before the stranger hopped back in his car and pulled away. Ranger walked around our vehicle and opened the door for me.

"Who was that?" I asked before climbing in.

"Silvio."

"As in _the_ Silvio?"

He shrugged. "Probably lots of Silvio's, babe."

I made a face. "You know what I mean."

"Then yes, that was him."

" _That_ was _him?_ "

"Yes," he reiterated. "You seem surprised."

"He was…normal."

Ranger raised his eyebrows slightly as if there was an implied "And?"

"That man seemed downright cordial and…friendly?"

The familiar mouth twitch returned. "Everyone likes Silvio. Makes him exceptionally good at what he does."

"And what exactly is that?"

"Odds and ends."

Thanks Mr. Cryptic. "Right."

"We done here, babe? My arm's getting tired holding the door."

So says the man who could probably bench press a car if he wanted. I rolled my eyes and angled into the passenger seat. "Where to now?"

He shut the door and walked around to the driver's side before answering. "The hotel. You and I still have some unfinished business."

I got a nervous flutter in my stomach. As I seemed to recall, having unfinished business with Ranger was never a good thing.


	55. Chapter 55

Now that things were mostly wrapped up with Izzy's undercover investigation, Ranger had gone back to his roots and upgraded to a much fancier hotel. Something I assumed came complete with a wait staff, a five-star rating, and most notably, around-the-clock room service.

A major part of me wondered what kind of bartering chip I'd have to play in order to take advantage of the room service because something told me Ranger's prices still ran pretty steep. In fact, the more I considered it, the more I realized that maybe that had been his brilliantly devious plan all along. Entice me at the end of all this with a fancy hotel, seduce me with the stellar room service, and boom! Suddenly I'd be back in Trenton completely under his spell again.

C'mon here. We all know it wouldn't be _that_ hard to accomplish. After all, I have always been a real sucker for room service. Like a _real_ sucker. Even if I was still trying to convince myself I'd developed some sort of semblance of willpower since I'd relocated. Pretty sure that was wishful thinking…

"I smell smoke."

The familiar comment broke through my momentary zone-out session and blindsided me with a bit of nostalgia.

"Nice hotel," I blurted as we pulled up to the fancy building, still trying to reign in my thoughts.

"They weren't exactly eager to take us back at the last one considering all the busted-out windows and residual bullet damage." Ranger glanced over with the hint of a smirk. "Can't say that I blame them."

Oh goody. Ranger humor.

I rolled my eyes as we parked the car and made our way up to the front desk where I tried not to notice the young girl behind the counter looking like a dog salivating over a bone. Good grief! Ranger wasn't _that_ good looking. Hell, the man was pushing forty.

I glanced over at him just to reconfirm my assessment before quickly deciding I was a big, fat idiot. Who was I kidding here? The man was freaking gorgeous!

I swallowed back my momentary bout of lust as we made our way over to the immaculate, glass elevators. "What floor, Rambo?" I asked, hoping like hell my silly side would mask any other side that was currently trying to surface.

"The top. Penthouse." His mouth twitched.

"Gee, and here I thought you'd finally found a sense of modesty."

He shrugged. "Guess a tiger can't change his stripes."

I let the remark tumble around in my head for a moment as the elevator silently ticked away the ascending floors as we passed them. Mostly because there was something about it that rubbed me the wrong way. Good chance it was probably that something having to do with the fact that this tiger _had_ changed his stripes recently. In subtle ways maybe, but the changes were still there. It was something I hadn't been expecting on this trip. Or ever really. Which was really bugging me.

Ranger may have written the book on gray area, but at least he consistently lived by it. Right, wrong, or indifferent, the man stuck to his guns. Both literally and figuratively. Yet for some reason it felt as if some of that book had been rewritten since the last time I'd seen him, which gave me the odd and unsettling feeling similar to a floor falling out from under me. If I was going to survive this encounter, I needed to regain a strong foothold again here. And fast.

"You still have the Turbo, right?" The question just kind of fell out of my mouth before I had a chance to stop and filter it. I think I was hoping to find something to reestablish some normalcy, especially since so much of this trip had been like an episode straight out of The Twilight Zone.

Ranger made a face. "Babe."

What now?

Oh.

Oh!

"No, that's not what I… I wasn't referring to…" My mind, and no doubt Ranger's, immediately flashed back to a rather…interesting experience we'd shared once in his drool-worthy car. It made my insides tingle in some very specific places. It also made my cheeks flush with the heat of a thousand suns.

"That car should be immortalized," Ranger muttered with a not-so-subtle wolf grin.

"Oh, good grief! Knock it off. I was just curious if you still had it is all."

"Babe, I will own that car until the day I die. As long as there is even the remotest possibility of a repeat experience."

My cheeks flushed again as something caught in my throat making me sputter. Oh boy…

The doors slid open, and we made our way down the hall to the suite where Ranger whispered some magic words to let us in. A trick he managed seemingly without the use of the necessary keycard.

Show off.

After a brief tour through the spectacular rooms, I took a seat on the plush couch and stared at the scenery outside the window. "It's nice," I commented to no one in particular.

Ranger entered the room a few steps behind me and watched from a distance, the expression on his face completely unreadable. As always.

I raised my eyebrows his direction. "What?"

"You have that look."

"Pretty sure I don't have a 'look'," I countered. "This is just my face."

"Babe." Another smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.

A bout of silence lingered between us a while after that, and I could feel myself start to go a little antsy. Muddied thoughts tumbled around in my head as I mindlessly fiddled with a string on my shirt. Then I dropped my gaze to my feet to prepare for the difficult words I felt still needed to be said.

"Guess this is just about the part of the story where Henry Higgins and Eliza Doolittle finally say their goodbyes. Go their separate ways."

Ranger stared at me a long moment before giving a subtle shake of his head. "You've never actually seen it, have you? The movie with the Hepburn chick?"

Damn.

It wasn't my fault. Honest. Every time I tried watching the stupid thing, my body relaxed and my eyes closed involuntarily. In fact, the darn movie worked better as a sleep aide than any pills I'd ever taken. "It's kinda long," I confessed. "And besides, from what I recall of what I _have_ seen, the Higgins guy is a real asshole. I mean, why does she even bother hanging around and putting up with all his pompous shit anyway?"

I felt the couch dip next to me. "Not a lot of logic to it, is there?" He paused. "Could be the point. Maybe she sees through all his shit and for some crazy reason likes him in spite of it."

Or crazier still, maybe she actually liked him because of it.

Huh.

Funny how it was starting to feel like we weren't just talking about the movie anymore.

"So…what?" I asked. "She sticks around then? Puts up with his unreasonable expectations and overbearing ways? And of course they probably fall madly in love, right? Happily ever after and all that fairy tale crap?"

"Nope."

The answer caught me off guard. I turned and raised my eyebrows. "What do you mean _nope_?"

"They don't fall in love. She leaves."

Huh. No kidding. "Somehow I find that hard to believe considering an ending like that would probably make for the lamest musical ever."

He didn't give an answer to that. Instead, Ranger moved from his perch on the couch and went and stood by the window, staring outside like he was contemplating the deepest secrets of the universe. I wondered what he saw.

"Not indefinitely," he finally confirmed. "But long enough."

"For what?"

"For reality to sink in."

"And just what kind of reality might that be?" I scoffed. "That she needed his money? That she couldn't make it on her own?"

He turned away from the window, his eyes locked and focused intently on mine. "That they were good for each other. Here he'd always thought he'd saddled himself with some lame charity case, taking on the ridiculous girl out of pity or maybe just because he was bored. But somewhere along the way… At some point it was… She was…"

"A good friend?" I offered, slightly taken aback by the big, strong badass struggling for words.

"Let me ask you this," he countered. "Does a 'good friend' make you feel like the oxygen's been sucked out of the room when they leave?"

It was a scarily valid question. One that was treading dangerously close to home.

My mouth went a little dry in panic, so I shrugged in a last ditch act of self-preservation. "Depends on the friend."

"Are you _trying_ to make this difficult?"

"Are you?"

In a movement so fluid and quick, I was suddenly pulled to my feet and kissed so thoroughly, I not only saw stars, I'm pretty sure I saw the whole freaking universe. Galaxies, shooting stars, supernovas. In one singular moment, my world and everything in it exploded.

"This," his voice echoed in my mind as he rested his forehead against mine. "This has always been easy."

And it was.

A weird, complicated easy.

At least that's what I kept telling myself. Because whether it was from that earth-shattering kiss, the thought of the five-star room service, or the fact I was so tired of fighting the millions of hormones that always sparked to life any time Ranger shared any kind of space with me, I gave in. I kissed back and let go.

And for the next six hours, I was very glad I did.

 _A/N: My apologies the fat lady has not sung on this little project just yet. A few more chapters to go, and considering I've written some of this chapter one-handed while rocking a newborn with the other, I make no commitments as to when that will be. But be encouraged that it WILL be. Especially with the continued motivation from friends. Thanks for that. Your support has and always will be invaluable._


	56. Chapter 56

I'd like to say this is where the story ends. That I woke up the next morning and realized I'd been an idiot all along. That Ranger loved me and I loved him and in the end that was all that really mattered. That we were able to sort through our differences once and for all, that time had healed old wounds, and we were finally able to claim our happily ever after.

But of course, love stories are never that neat and tidy. And they're never really that pretty. In fact, the real ones, the ones the old people tell their great grandchildren about years and years down the road are tragic. They're full of tears and heartache and stupid decisions made with the best intentions. They're full of moments missed and moments lost, full of pain and sadness somehow mixed with a handful of beautiful minutes, days, and if you're very lucky, years that seem to make it all worthwhile.

When I woke up the next morning to an empty bed, I panicked. Even more so when I found the note Ranger had left under a box of donuts in the oddly cold and empty hotel room.

He'd been called away on one of his mysterious special assignments, one that required an immediate departure, and being a man of few words, his farewell note only said he'd be back as soon as he could. No flowery words about our night together, no sweet sentiments or displays of emotions or feelings. No game plan for what lay in store for our future. Not that I expected any of that either, but I _had_ expected an opportunity to discuss what had happened between us.

And maybe not just that.

Call me greedy or selfish or whatever, but I'd really been hoping to brush off reality for a bit longer and stay cooped up in that hotel room with a lot more room service and a lot less clothing. Here Ranger and I had _finally_ cleared a momentous hurdle in our relationship and just like that, he'd gone and disappeared.

So I stayed for a few hours to make a sizable dent in the donut offering while debating what was supposed to come next.

Initially Ranger had wanted me to come back to Trenton. At least, that's the impression I got from his insistence on continued medical care at Rangeman headquarters. But I knew I still had too many past ghosts—both literal and figurative—that refused to let me find peace with that plan. There was probably a middle ground there somewhere too like an apartment in New York or a condo in Milwaukee, but to be honest, I wasn't sure I was ready to part with the life I'd carefully built for myself in Idaho.

Therefore I made one of those stupid decisions with the best intentions.

I packed my bags, booked the first available flight back to Boise, and tried like hell to pretend the whole wild ride with Izzy, Ranger, and the high-end prostitutes never happened.

###

Two months passed without ghosts from my past making any appearances, so I continued recovering from my injuries while settling back into my quieter routines and existence. But even with everything back to the way it should've been, I still couldn't shake that odd feeling that something felt off. Maybe it was the fact that the house felt a little bit smaller now. Or the fact my job seemed staler. Or maybe even the fact the lighter traffic that I once found to be a nice reprieve from all the east coast craziness seemed dull and uneventful.

Everything just felt small.

In an effort to pull me out of my post-adventure doldrums, Kristine played her friend role perfectly and organized a fun girls' weekend to McCall. We shopped and ate and soaked in the nearby hot springs, but despite all the fun we had, I couldn't really enjoy myself. Everything reminded me of Ranger.

A few lonely nights after downing a glass or two of wine, I thought about leaving a message on his phone. Pulling the old "I'm drunk and I miss you" gag. But even that was doomed to fail. He was "in the wind" and completely unavailable. Even to me. Besides, given the note he'd left back at the hotel, if he was stateside, I figured I'd be one of the first people to know.

Unless, of course, he was pissed I'd gone back to Idaho.

I left a few awkward messages just to cover my bases followed by a few more awkward messages apologizing for being awkward. Then, after some additional glasses of wine, I contacted Rangeman headquarters and started bawling and pleading for someone to delete all of Ranger's voicemail messages before he got to them. I think at some point my old pal Hector got on the line, but between my low alcohol tolerance and his thick Spanish accent, I don't think we really got anywhere.

Not wanting to take any chances of a repeat situation, I promptly tossed all alcohol-related substances out the next morning.

Things were getting out of hand, and I decided I needed to reign in some of my more problematic behaviors. This is exactly what had landed me in trouble in the past. All the obsessing and regretting and wishing things were different. Everything was going to sort itself out, and even if it didn't, I had a life to live. Sure I desperately wanted to work out all the messed up shit I had going with Ranger, but the fact of the matter was that wasn't an option right now. My options were to A. bury my head in the sand and completely ignore recent events, B. acknowledge recent events but reject their implications, or C. acknowledge recent events, accept their implications and wait with a Job-like patience until Ranger and I could sort things out like mature and civilized adults.

I have to admit, I did a little of option A before settling into my acceptance of option C.

So I waited. The days marched on, and I went back to busying myself with work and some good old fashioned retail therapy, but by the fifth pair of new shoes, I was beginning to doubt the effectiveness of it. Then one night, I had an unexpected visitor.

The gravel crunched in my driveway out front, and my heart froze in my chest. Everything stood still as I listened with bated breath for the knock on my door.


	57. Chapter 57

_A/N:_ _Alright, readers. No getting grumpy, okay? Promise? You sure? Okay... You may continue reading now._

If I'd been paying closer attention, I would have noticed the gait of the footsteps outside didn't match what I remembered. The man who approached my door moved with stealth and an unconscious athleticism, but he was a far cry from smoke in the wind. Maybe a part of me knew that before I opened the door to welcome my friend.

"Lester Santos," I said shaking my head. "You're a sight for sore eyes." I did my best to not sound too disappointed, but we both knew I'd been expecting someone else.

Despite that, Les' flirty grin lit up his face as he gripped his chest. "Keep up that kind of talk, Beautiful, and I'll have no choice but to take you in my arms and kiss you senseless."

I couldn't help but laugh as we embraced and I ushered him inside. "You're looking good," I said, giving him a thorough scan from head to toe. "Those cracked ribs obviously didn't keep you down long."

"Nope. And I'd do it all again." His flirty smile shifted to something more serious and genuine, and I knew he meant every word.

After a few pleasantries and checking up on his time with the nurse from the hospital, a strange silence fell between us, and I realized then there was an unspoken question I didn't want to ask. So I played the avoidance card a little longer. I offered a cold beer and took a seat on the couch.

We sat shooting the breeze, reminiscing about old times until the stories shifted to things more recent. Then we tiptoed around the inevitable for a while longer before finally addressing the awkward elephant in the room.

"Have you heard anything?" I asked, my voice low and quiet as if discussing something top secret.

Lester's expression sobered. Unlike Ranger who could always keep his face void of emotions, Les' eyes betrayed him. He didn't need to answer. I already knew the prognosis wasn't good.

"That's actually why I'm here."

My heart gave a shudder, and I nodded my understanding. "Something bad then."

"Well it's not good." He paused. "There were some complications with the mission. Ranger didn't make his last two check points."

I swallowed those words like a cotton ball stuck in my throat.

Right. Two missed check points. But the funny thing was, I'd been here before. At the receiving end of some less than promising news. It wasn't my favorite place to be obviously, but this was Ranger we were talking about. The magic ninja cat who was always landing on his feet. And even if he wasn't, surely he still had a few of his nine ninja lives left to spare.

Didn't he?

There had to be more to the story. Something big. Something beyond just a couple of missed check points.

Something I knew I didn't want to hear.

"And?" I prodded. "Don't tell me you flew halfway across the country just to tell me that."

Lester sighed, dropping his head, and I felt a few butterflies spring loose in my stomach. He reached down and pulled something out of his jacket pocket, took my hand and dropped it into my outstretched fingers. It was a long moment before I realized what I was holding.

Charred metal.

A chain.

Dog tags.

My thumb traced the remnants of the name on them as my mind raced with a million outlandish explanations, absolutely refusing to settle on any of the obvious ones. "A replica," I muttered to myself. "These things are a dime a dozen. Easy to fake." I tried handing them back to Lester. "They're not his."

"Steph."

I shook my head, fighting back the painful tickle that was making my throat constrict and my eyes well with tears. "Don't screw with me on this, Lester Santos," I choked out. "They're fakes. We both know they're fakes."

He didn't respond, just sat staring at the ground like it might hold the secrets of the universe. "After the second missed checkpoint," he finally continued, "they sent in someone else to complete the mission." He stopped and glanced up at me. "They came back with a lot of scrapes and bruises…and those."

I made a face. "What, and we're just accepting that as hard evidence now? They're dog tags, Les. Cheap pieces of metal. Call me morbid, but I'm going to need a hell of a lot more than a few charred pieces of scrap metal before I buy into any of this bullshit."

Les blew out a breath. "The replacement they sent found him, Steph. They made contact before…" He paused, his eyes staring straight ahead. "He made sure she was the one who made it out."

 _She?_

"That's the biggest load of bull I've ever heard!" I snapped. "It's Ranger. You and I know he would've made sure they both made it out. Les, c'mon. You don't really believe any of this, do you?" He wouldn't look at me. " _Do_ you?"

When he reached for my hand, I felt like all the oxygen was being sucked out of the room. "The other operative was Izzy, Steph."

 _Izzy? How was that even…?_ "But she's just an undercover cop."

"Yeah. Kind of like how Ranger's just the owner of a security firm," he countered.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

"But…" There wasn't much left to argue. And just like that, I was losing my last shreds of hope. "He didn't even say goodbye," I choked out.

"He wanted to, Beautiful. Trust me. It was all he could do to make himself leave that night."

I batted away a few stray tears. "Wait, what? How do you know?"

"I meant to tell you. A while ago, actually. But I figured it didn't really matter unless…" I stared at Lester, still trying to make sense of what he was saying. "He called me on his way out. Said he didn't even have time to pack a bag, let alone talk with you. He asked me to leave the note…"

I took a moment to process this new information. "And the donuts?"

"They were from all of us. We thought you could use a pick me up."

It was the straw that finally broke the camel's back. And I felt my overwhelming sadness start shifting to something easier to deal with. An emotion I was all too familiar with. "Get out," I glowered. "Now."

Lester's face fell. "Steph, c'mon. Don't do this."

"You heard me. Out."

Not daring to challenge my obviously misplaced emotions, Lester stood and headed for the door, pausing just before stepping through it. "There's going to be a funeral. It's why I came. Thought you'd want to be there."

"Out!" I yelled, getting to my feet. I grabbed a pillow from the couch and chucked it as hard as I could. "And don't ever bother coming back here again! You or anybody else! You hear me?"

Without another word, the door closed. I pounded my fist against it as the tires crunched the gravel outside. And then I collapsed on the floor in a desperate, sobbing heap.


	58. Chapter 58

An empty, hollow feeling became my constant companion over the next few weeks. And if I thought the days of moping and grieving were bad, the nights were even worse. Nightmares plagued my thoughts making me dream of flames and disappearing dragons and superheroes pulling their masks off to reveal unscrupulous villains underneath. My subconscious erupted in explosions and gun fire, cries of agony, and my name being whispered over and over, desperate and far away. And even in the off chance I was lucky enough to have a pleasant dream here or there, waking up and realizing it wasn't my reality was just as bad. In fact, in many ways, it was worse.

I moved through the days on autopilot, turning on a plastic smile and feigning normalcy. I doubt anyone really noticed either. After all, I was the new Stephanie Plum here, the practical, level-headed events coordinator with a small fixer-upper outside of town. The girl with the quiet life, a few friends, and minimal excitement. And for once in the two years I'd been away, I was homesick in ways I never could have imagined.

All the familiar daily drama that had once felt so smothering and ridiculous now seemed like a comforting blanket I so desperately wanted to wrap myself in. I wanted that random stranger to ask how my mother was doing, or a nosy neighbor to tell me they'd seen Grandma up to no good. I wanted to see all those rows of mismatched houses with their postage stamp lawns, cars on cinder blocks, and to smell the heavenly perfume of a Sunday roast wafting through the air. And more than anything, I wanted someone else to understand the gaping hole that was left by the absence of a certain dark knight.

No one here knew the world had changed. And no one here really cared. I needed someone to care. So one lonely night I did what any other depressed and confused thirty something year old would do. I called home.

My mother picked up on the fourth ring in an obvious huff.

"This is Helen," she ground out, almost politely. I shook my head and felt my mouth pull into a small smile. Some things never changed.

"Hey Mom, it's me."

"Stephanie, I'm glad you called." There was some commotion in the background, and I thought I heard my mom gasp. "Hold on a minute. I need to take care of something." More commotion and a few grumbled threats later, and my mom was back on the line. "Sorry about that," she apologized. "I'm afraid Grandma's up to her old antics, and your father was looking a little murderous there for a moment."

I considered the endless terrifying possibilities. "Strip poker again?"

"Worse. It seems a friend from Bingo Night organized a geriatric motorcycle gang. Grandma's the president." _Of course she was._ "Came from her room just now sporting a bunch of black leather and a bad attitude. Told your father to shove it. I think we're lucky he didn't shove _her_."

Ah, Grandma…

"How's Trenton?" I asked.

"Oh, you know, same old, same old. Got a new recipe for a Bundt cake I'm excited to try out. It's got some sour cream and mayo in it to keep it moist. Can't go wrong with that, can you?"

 _Moist_. I shuddered at the oddly unpleasant word. Leave it to my mom to think "important" news had to do with baking a _moist_ cake. "Dad's doing alright?" I continued.

"He's wearing socks with sandals to mow the lawn, and his hairline is definitely past receding, but he's content. Been showing some of your nieces how to play baseball when they come over. Mary Alice screamed 'you're out!' at the TV a few weeks ago, and the look of pride on his face was priceless."

I smiled. "I never was any good at that game."

"No," she agreed. "I seem to recall, you were too busy scraping your knees and jumping off buildings." She paused. "But I doubt that's why you called. What do you need, Stephanie?"

A hug? Someone to put my world back together? Truckloads of comfort food?

"I think I need some advice," I said.

"Advice? Seriously?" she laughed. "You haven't asked for _my_ advice a day in your life."

And I was suddenly tempted to keep it that way. I ground my teeth a little, but pressed on in spite of myself. "Maybe I finally found some common sense," I muttered.

This seemed to placate her. "Alright, Stephanie. What do you need advice about?"

I blew out a sobering breath. "I think I made a mistake."

"Are we talking an unplanned-pregnancy kind of a mistake or an I-missed-my-dentist-appointment kind of mistake?"

My defenses automatically kicked into high gear again. "I'm not pregnant, Mom."

"Nobody said you were, sweetheart."

It was just heavily implied…

"No, I just… I think I made a mistake coming out here." A sneaky tear slid down my cheek, and I quickly swiped it away with a finger. "I shouldn't have left."

"So come home then."

Come home? Seriously? I couldn't just _come home_. That was just… It wasn't that… "Just like that?" I asked.

"Just like that, kiddo."

My eyes prickled with tears. "But home hurts, Mom."

There was a long bout of silence, and for a moment I wondered if she'd accidentally hung up on me. "It does that sometimes," she finally replied. "But it's also a place to heal. And you sound like you could really use some healing, baby."

At that, I completely lost it. "Uh huh," I sobbed, my nose already dripping like a faucet.

"Come home, Stephanie. Your room's just as you left it. Except for that old gun you left behind. Grandma found it, and I had to get it out of the house before she decided to live out her hair-brained fantasies of being the next Annie Oakley."

I cracked a small smile. "Probably a wise move," I sniffled.

Some silence lingered between us for a while before Mom finally broke it. "Want me to sweeten the deal with a pineapple upside down cake?"

I took a long look around the little house I'd been renovating the last two years. No matter what I'd done to the place, it had never felt like home. Not really. "You've got yourself a deal," I said, already feeling like one of the many heavy weights had been lifted from my chest.

I called a real estate agent the very next morning. 


	59. Chapter 59

Kristine held up a pot and a pan from under the stove. "Want me to wrap these in towels so they don't get scratched?" she asked.

I shrugged. "Is that what people do with this stuff when they move?"

"That's what _I_ would do. This here's some nice cookware, Plum. Why didn't you ever have me over for dinner?"

I shrugged. "Probably because the only things I can make without burning the house down are pasta and soup." I made my way down the hall to grab the last remaining towels from the closet. "I guess there's always peanut butter sandwiches too. I'm a pro at those. Real fancy and gourmet."

Kristine chuckled and sighed. "I can't believe you're actually leaving. Who am I supposed to bug at work?"

"The customers."

"If I told them even half the things I tell you, I'm pretty sure I'd be looking for another job. Besides, none of them want to hear about my scandalous love life."

"With who?" I teased. "Ben and Jerry?"

She paused and raised an eyebrow. "Actually…"

I glanced up from the box I'd been packing. "Whoa, wait. Actually...what?"

A hint of color suddenly brightened Kristine's cheeks as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I, uh, think maybe I met someone, Steph."

I couldn't help but chuckle. " _Maybe_ you met someone? I'm pretty sure you'd know if you did. Unless this was like some drunk hook-up at a bar or something."

"Psh," she responded. "That hasn't happened since college."

"But what about…?"

"I repeat, not since college. That thing last year did _not_ count."

I held up my hands in surrender. "Okay, right. So…who's this new lucky guy then?"

Kristine resumed wrapping the pots and pans and adding them to one of the empty boxes, barely making eye contact with me. "Well, I was on my way over here that one night last week to help you pack, and I sorta wasn't paying super close attention while I was driving. Kinda missed one of those random stop signs down a side street. Next thing I know, there's those lovely flashing lights in my rearview."

"Gee, don't you hate when that happens?" Darn those sneaky country cops. I may have been nabbed by them a time or two myself.

"Usually." A slow smile worked its way across her face. "Except this time karma seemed to throw me a bone."

I quirked a brow. "You flirted your way out of the ticket, didn't you?"

"Nope. In fact, all my usual tactics weren't even working. I was tripping and sputtering all over myself just trying to answer a few simple questions because holy moly, this guy was hot. We're talking like cowboy meets Chris Evans hot."

"The cop?"

"No, the cow in the pasture next to me… Yes, the cop, you dork!"

Interesting. In fact, the description was kind of ringing a bell. Guess Mr. Back to the Future wasn't so broken up about my rejection after all. At least not enough to recognize a good thing when he found it. Of course I wasn't about to let Kristine off the hook so easy…

"So you were busy making an ass of yourself with Officer Hottie, and…?"

"And he wrote up the ticket."

"Sounds like a real nice guy," I snorted, shoving my blender and toaster into another box. "Think I should get rid of this?" I held up my untouched food processor.

"Ummm…why? It looks brand new." Kristine took it from me and pulled it out of its box, inspecting it like it was a priceless work of art. "Have you ever even _used_ this?"

"No, but we're not talking about me, we're talking about you. And I believe you were just getting to the good part of your story."

Kristine put the food processor back in its packaging, and hugged it to her chest. "Fine. But I'm taking this."

"Oh whatever." I stood staring her down, waiting for her to continue. "Soooo…"

"Right. The cop." She paused. "I started crying."

"Kristine... You didn't."

"Well they weren't fake tears. I was having a rotten day, and getting pulled over was like the straw that broke the camel's back. So I sobbed my little heart out right then and there."

"And what? You decided to fall madly in love with the man who made you cry?"

She stared at me a moment, apparently struggling to rationalize whatever response she had planned. And then she just started laughing. "He offered me a tissue, Steph. Who even does that anymore?"

"Um, podunk law enforcement apparently," I teased.

"He just stood there while I cried, and not with that whole 'lady I've got better things to be doing' look either." Most likely because he _didn't_ have better things to be doing, but I didn't want to ruin the moment for Kristine. "And that's not even the end of his chivalry," she continued. "The guy goes to his car again and brings back a candy bar. Hands it to me, tears up my ticket, says he hopes my day gets better, and he'll see me around."

I gave her a skeptical look. "No offense, but that sounds a little weird, doesn't it? _See you around_? He's a cop. You probably don't want to be 'seeing him around'."

Kristine started rummaging through her purse, retrieving a slightly mangled candy wrapper. "It's not _weird_. It was cute. And clever. See? He wrote his number on the back here."

I fought an eye roll. This guy was majorly cheesy. But quite possibly in a good way. At least for Kristine. "So you called him?"

"We have a date planned for this weekend."

"Oh wait, let me guess. Coffee and donuts?" I joked.

Based on her facial expressions, I could tell my humor was wearing thin on Kristine. "He seems like a really nice guy, Steph. Also, just because you're going through some heavy emotional crap right now that you still refuse to talk about doesn't mean you can't be at least a tiny bit happy for me. We don't all have a Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dangerously Handsome chasing after us. I gotta take a decent guy when and where I can get one."

Ugh.

That one hurt.

"You're right," I almost whispered. "Sorry." A sneaky tear slid down my cheek. "He's gone, you know."

A look of sympathy replaced Kristine's momentary bout of irritation. "Well, go after him then, you big goof!" she laughed, tossing a towel at me. "You obviously regret not hanging on to him."

Biggest regret ever, actually.

I shook my head and swallowed back the lump that had suddenly caught in my throat. "He's… _literally_ gone, Kristine. His funeral's this weekend." More sneaky tears filled my eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. Was I a mess, or what?

My friend looked absolutely horrified. "Damn," she muttered. " _Really?_ The guy from the hotel's… _dead_?" I nodded. "Was it, you know…expected? Is that why he came out here and found you?"

I considered that a moment before shaking my head. "No. He was on a special assignment. Didn't make it back."

"Well, double damn." She stared blankly at the box she'd been packing, processing the weight and reality of what I'd just told her. But suddenly she snapped out of her haze. "Whoa. Hold up. Aren't you doing an event this weekend?"

I nodded again, afraid if I said any more, I would lose it.

"Steph," she frowned. "You should go."

"I…can't."

Kristine frowned a moment before her eyes sparked with a look of stubborn determination. "You can, and you will, Stephanie Plum. You need the closure, and you need to be around the people that understand."

I gave a slightly deranged laugh. "We were _so_ weird, Kris. I doubt _anyone_ understands."

"Okay. Fine. Then go to say goodbye. Go simply to tell him he mattered."

I blew out a very slow breath, ignoring the fact my eyes were doing enough of the waterworks at this point to rival a hydroelectric dam. Kristine put down her packing materials and crossed the kitchen to give me a hug. And bless her heart, she didn't say it was going to be alright. She didn't say things would eventually get better. In fact, she didn't say anything at all. We just stood in my kitchen locked in an embrace that recognized my world had been thrown off its axis and that for the time being, life completely sucked. It was exactly the kind of therapy I'd been needing.

That, and several doses of my mom's pineapple upside down cake. Thankfully I'd be enjoying a few of those too in the not too distant future.

"Okay," I sniffled. "I'll go."

"Good." Kris rummaged around her purse until she came back with a travel pack of tissues. She started to pull one out to offer me before just forking over the whole thing. "You're a real mess, you know that? Maybe a towel or two would be more effective."

I laughed before blowing my nose. "I think it's my Hungarian hormones. They've been giving me trouble for years."

Kristine smiled and shook her head before taking a look around the kitchen. "This stuff will all wait until you get back. So go, be a mess. Laugh, cry, and treasure the memories. I'll be waiting with a bottle of wine when you get back."

I hugged her again. "Thanks. And have fun with Officer Hottie. He really does seem like a nice guy, so I expect a full report when I get back. And if he tries getting fresh with you, I'll slash his tires, Jersey style."

"Don't you dare. I've been waiting for a man to 'get fresh' with me for months." We both laughed.

After packing a few more boxes, Kristine and I decided to call it a night. She rounded up her things, gave me a final hug, and said she'd take care of things at work. I watched her tail lights disappear into the darkness before finding a comfy spot on the couch and starting my list of things I needed to pack for the weekend.

Then I wondered just how many boxes of tissues would fit in a carry on. Because something told me I was going to need all the tissues I could get my hands on.

 _A/N: I'm going to make your hold your breath just a little bit longer... But... The conclusion is coming._


	60. Chapter 60

Flying in to Newark, I could tell I was already starting to lose my nerve. Mostly because I was about as emotionally and mentally prepared to attend Ranger's funeral as a kindergartener would be starting high school. And at least they had the advantage of being cute and ignorant.

Given all my recent crying episodes, I was far from cute, and I also knew exactly what I was in for.

Lots of pain. Lots of sad. Lots of regret. Maybe some closure at the end. Probably some denial. Definitely some ugly crying. And hopefully lots of my mom's pineapple upside down cake to make everything slightly more bearable.

Speaking of pineapple upside down cake, I was going to be lucky if I made it out of this whole ordeal without packing on fifty pounds. But for once, I decided I didn't care. Bring on the sugar therapy! I was going to need it.

I glanced out the window of the airplane, taking in what I could through the lingering cloud cover. Although I was still several miles from home, the familiar shapes of the Newark skyline made me realize just how much I'd missed this place over the last couple of years. Sure there was still that healthy layer of smog settled over the landscape, and of course the inhabitants would always be a shade or two off "normal," but deep down this was home and these were my people.

Guess it was true what they say. You can take the girl out of Jersey, but you can't take Jersey out of the girl. Okay… I may have tweaked the original saying just a little. But the sentiment still rings true regardless.

The plane landed with minimal excitement, and before I knew it, I was standing at the baggage claim, waiting to gather my things. Just when I'd finally spotted my suitcase amidst the never-ending sea of other standard black travel luggage, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around and broke into a relieved smile.

"Mom? What are you doing here?"

Her hands dropped to her hips, fists digging in in true motherly Burg fashion. "Well, what does it look like I'm doing? I'm picking up my daughter from the airport." She gave me an obligatory hug before glancing around behind her. "Now where's your grandmother?"

I did a palm's up gesture as I scanned the baggage claim area. "You brought her with you? That's a little risky, isn't it?"

Mom sighed and grit her teeth. "She promised she'd be on her best behavior."

We both knew Grandma's "best behavior" wasn't really a promise of anything, but regardless of the old lady's antics, my mom seemed to have a soft spot for her—not to mention an unlimited supply of forgiveness when it came to putting up with her senile and frequently disastrous plans and ideas. She tended to comply with requests as long as they were—and I quote—"not illegal or going to hurt anybody." Of course, my dad probably had a slightly different view on the term "hurt," especially since Grandma had been a constant torture to his sanity for the last several years.

I left my mom to grab my bag while I set off to play the Grandma Mazur version of Where's Waldo. Fortunately, my "Waldo" was notorious for standing out, not blending in, and I found her in record time sporting a bright pink track suit, chatting up one of the security guards by carousel 6. He had a polite if not slightly pained expression on his face.

"Hey Gram," I said, tapping her on the shoulder. "We're just about ready to go here."

She turned to me with a wry smile. "Stephanie, I'd like you to meet my new friend…er…what was your name again, sweetheart?" She gave the security guard what I'm sure was supposed to be a flirty wink, but ended up looking more like a giant face spasm. I sucked in my lip to keep from laughing.

"Officer Grady, ma'am," he replied, tipping his hat in farewell and fleeing the scene like a bolt of greased lightning.

Grandma gave a low whistle. "Whooee, that boy was a looker, wasn't he, Steph? Almost had him too. If you'd of just given me a few more minutes, that juicy piece of meat was about to slip me his number."

"Maybe you'd better keep your meat selection limited to Mom's Sunday roast," I said, shaking my head.

"Now where's the fun in that?" She attempted another face-spasm wink before completing a thorough head-to-toe inspection of me. Her smile grew. "It's good to see you, kid. It's been pretty boring in these parts without you." We hugged and she followed me over to where Mom was waiting for both of us with an expression of sheer relief.

"What's the damage?" she whispered as we made our way out to the parking garage.

"Mom, Grandma's latest target is a security guard at the Newark airport. He probably deals daily with a level of crazy Grandma won't even begin to reach until she's like ninety."

My mother's eyes grew wide, probably processing the possibility she might actually have to deal with some truly wild ninety-year-old Grandma shenanigans. Her face went a little pale. "Let's get home," she said. "I think I have a lot of ironing to do."

###

As we came to a stop in front of my unchanged childhood house a couple of hours later, a rush of nostalgia washed over me. Big Blue was still sitting like a landmark in the driveway, basking in all her indestructible, powder blue, refrigerator-on-wheels glory. For some reason, I'd really missed that gas-guzzling monstrosity. After all, she'd saved my backside on countless occasions. Maybe almost as many as Ranger had.

 _Ranger_.

A fresh wave of tears suddenly flooded my eyes. Ugh. Would these infernal waterworks never end? I hadn't even had a chance to settle in yet.

After a moment of trying to reign in my emotions, I moved to unbuckle my seatbelt and felt a gentle pat on my shoulder. Grandma offered me a sympathetic smile from the backseat. "You'll feel better after a slice or two of chocolate cake," she offered.

"And if I don't?"

Grandma waited a moment until Mom got out of the car. "And if the chocolate cake doesn't do the trick," she whispered. "I know where Helen keeps the good stuff."

I shook my head. "No offense, but that's probably not a good idea. Alcohol and I don't usually mix well."

"Who said anything about alcohol?"

I raised a curious eyebrow.

"Okay…it's alcohol," she confessed. "But it comes in these pretty pink little bottles with silver foil wrappers on top. Has some fancy French name too. Probably imported," she added, waggling her eyebrows. "Helen hides them in the bathroom."

I stopped and stared at her. "Grandma, I think those might be Mom's frilly bath body washes."

She considered that a moment. "Hunh," she replied. "Guess that explains the fruity smell. Not to mention the lack of a proper buzz."

I shook my head with a small smile and grabbed my things. If it wasn't for the looming funeral, it sure would've felt great to be home.


	61. Chapter 61

Although Mom's chocolate cake was to die for and had left my taste buds satisfied in ways I'd totally forgotten about, it only managed a small, bandage-size fix for the gaping wound that had become my heart. Memories haunted my subconscious, stabbing me with an overwhelming sense of emptiness nearly everywhere I went. The pain I'd always dreaded facing coming back here after Lula was now slamming into me ten-fold with the overwhelming absence of Ranger.

Sitting at the table, I remembered the first family dinner he'd ever attended. And I remembered the last one he had attended too. I remembered him parked out front, waiting for me, eyes dark and predatory. And I remembered countless Rangman vehicles parked along the street, ready to protect me at a moment's notice.

I remembered all those times lying awake for hours on end in my childhood bed, wondering where I'd gone wrong with my life. The irony of course being that all these years later I was still lying awake wondering the exact same things. But now I was wondering them for different reasons.

The springs in my bed creaked beneath me as I tossed and turned all night. I had one full day to prepare myself for what was to come. A day to gather my thoughts and process some of those dreadful underlying emotions. A day to hopefully find some peace with all that had happened.

Staring at my ceiling in the dark, I suddenly realized there was something I needed to do.

I needed to go back to the place where it had all started. The place where our story began.

I needed to go sit at our booth and order something dripping with butter and syrup.

Because something deep down was driving me to bring our story full circle.

###

I snuck out of the house early the next morning in an attempt to avoid any sympathetic comments and/or looks from my family. I downed two of Mom's chocolate chip cookies and a half a glass of milk for a morning booster, grabbed the keys for Big Blue off the hook where they'd always hung, and headed out just before the neighborhood morning rush kicked into high gear.

Things looked oddly unchanged as I meandered my way along the familiar streets. Sure there were a few new chain restaurants and a few additional hair and nail salons, but for the most part, Trenton, New Jersey seemed untouched by the ticking hands of time. It was like the place was trapped in a loop, playing the same scenes over and over again, and now that I'd been away from it for a while, I marveled at the charm of the strange phenomenon. I also found a small breath of comfort in its oddball consistency. This was and always would be home.

The drive took longer than it probably should have, but I couldn't quite bring myself to head straight to my final destination. I'd always been one to take the roundabout way anyway, giving in to some rather long-standing procrastination habits, so it seemed fitting I should take a few detours and scope out some of my old haunts before doing anything else. Besides, what homecoming would be complete without a Boston cream from the local Tasty Pastry?

Once I'd properly consumed two of my old favorites and a small cup of coffee, fortifying my courage with a healthy dose of fat, sugar, and caffeine, I decided I was finally ready to face the ghosts from my past and the haunting reality of my future.

The diner sat where it had always been, a healthy flow of foot traffic keeping things lively and moving at this early hour. I parked and meandered my way inside, flagging down one of the wait staff to request the currently occupied booth in the back. And despite the inconvenienced flare of attitude that followed, I was granted my request once the current patrons were through with their meal. I waited in a nostalgic stupor until my turn cam. Then I walked the seemingly endless steps to the booth and took a seat with my back to the wall, taking in the enormity of where I was now sitting.

It was more than a little surreal.

And it was something else too. It was revelatory. All those years ago I'd sat here as Stephanie Plum: the broke, unemployed, down-on-her-luck divorcee who was still waiting for life to happen. _Now_ I was Stephanie Plum: the strong, independent homeowner (well, used to be anyway) with a decent bank account and no longer desperate for that one for the money.

Ranger had seen a glimpse of that Stephanie even back then. Long before I ever did. Maybe even from that initial meeting. He'd always been good at reading people.

As I sat there after ordering my short stack, I replayed snippets of our first meeting in my head. Gosh, he'd been such an arrogant punk! Dressed to scare the living crap out of me with enough hardware on display that any sensible person would have turned tail and run. Guess I hadn't been all that sensible back then. But for once in my life, it hadn't turned out to be such a bad thing.

My order came at last, and I tried to swallow back some of the immense loneliness I was starting to feel. Not just from the fact I was foolishly dining alone, but also because I knew my world was currently down some epic players. Maybe even THE epic player. I drenched the pancakes in syrup, shoved a few oversized bites in my mouth, and tried my absolute best not to swallow back all the emotions.

Turns out I didn't have to try too hard because halfway through my first pancake, I became distracted by an overwhelming sense that I was being watched. I scanned the room several times in an attempt to find the source of the scrutiny, but despite my best efforts, nobody really stood out. I cautiously consumed the remainder of my breakfast, my body on high alert, until I finally noticed a waitress that kept glancing my direction.

Over the course of my bounty hunting career, I had kind of become accustomed to the crowd of curious onlookers. I'd landed myself in enough precarious situations over the years that I'd kind of become a bit of a local celebrity. Especially since being dubbed "the bombshell bounty hunter" by some local propaganda.

I caught her eye, and crooked my finger, beckoning her over to my table. The older woman jumped with a slight blush, apparently embarrassed she'd been caught gawking.

"You want an autograph or something?" I asked, already digging through my handbag for something to write with.

She didn't answer right away, just kept staring at me in silent amazement. "It's you," she finally muttered. "I can't believe it. You're really her."

"Never thought you'd actually get to meet the real Stephanie Plum, huh?" I asked with a chuckle. Man these fans were kind of weird sometimes.

"Is that your name?" she asked, still slightly dumbstruck and dazed.

I had to admit, her focused wide-eyed stare was starting to unsettle me. I shifted in my seat uncomfortably, worried I might have just landed myself a new stalker. "Ha, yep. Although you probably know me by my more famous moniker of the Bombshell Bounty Hunter, right?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "You're a bounty hunter?"

Uh oh… My heart stuttered in my chest. Something definitely wasn't adding up here. "It's not my current occupation," I corrected. "But if you don't recognize me from my previous bounty hunting career, why exactly were you staring at me just now?"

The woman seemed to suddenly snap out of her stupor. She looked down at her tattered wrist watch and glanced around, taking in the current state of the diner. "Listen," she said. "I have a break coming up once the breakfast rush settles down. If you wouldn't mind sticking around until then, I think you and I might need to have a little chat."

I raised a skeptical eyebrow. "No offense, but I'm not generally fond of 'little chats.' Can't be too careful these days, you know?"

She nodded and pulled out her phone. Flipped through a few things until she found what she'd been looking for. Flashed it my direction. "Trust me," she said. "You'll want to stick around."


	62. Chapter 62

The waitress was right.

So I ordered a hot chocolate as I sat trying to process the image she'd just shown me. The picture was a portrait of sorts. A face compiled of bits and pieces of other pictures from magazines, newspapers, and who knew what else. The result was a rather disturbing Frankenstein's monster, but the creator had nailed one thing perfectly. There was no mistaking it. The woman in the rough portrait had my eyes. Not to mention enough of my other physical attributes to be recognizable.

The woman in the tripped-out picture was definitely me.

Something this eerie should have had red flags exploding all over my common sensibility and my need for self-preservation because this was the exact kind of creepy thing they found on the walls of serial killers and rapists. Trophies of unhinged people with obsession issues. This was the kind of thing that you'd call the police over and look into protective boundaries and restraining orders.

But of course, my overwhelming sense of curiosity decided to throw caution to the wind and trumped whatever common sense I possessed. This was weird, even for me, and I couldn't just walk out of that diner without digging a little deeper. My old spidey-sense was on high alert once again.

So I waited.

By mid-morning, the crowds had thinned, and the orders had slowed enough that the wait staff had started taking turns for their breaks. My new waitress friend grabbed her jacket and motioned me toward the back, and for a split second, I had a crazy vision of me being shot or tortured out in the alley, but at the last second, I decided to risk it. What did I really have to lose anyway?

Fortunately when the waitress reached into her jacket pocket outside, it was only for her pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Not a small knife or handgun.

"You interested in hearing a weird story?" she asked, lighting up one of the slender sticks as she leaned up against one of the industrial-sized garbage cans.

"Uh, sure," I said cautiously, still eyeing her jacket pockets just in case the handgun thing suddenly became a reality.

She took a long, steady drag on the cigarette and cracked a small smile. "You a local?"

"Born and bred, I'm afraid."

"I'm not. Moved here just over a year ago, actually. Messy divorce. Needed a clean break."

I nodded, encouraging her to continue. "I hope that's not the weird story."

She laughed. "Nah. But the thing is, we get all sorts at this diner. Young, stupid kids, eating their weight in flapjacks and omelets; the geriatric crowd, gossiping over black coffee at dawn; the moms with four kids in toe; the cops; the junkies; the foodies. I'm telling you, we get _all_ sorts."

It really was an oddly diverse place, come to think about it. But I still didn't see what that had to do with the bizarre picture.

"Several weeks back," the waitress continued, "I'm on shift, and this man comes in to the diner. Grungy clothes, scraggily beard, and these dark, shadowy eyes looking all distraught like maybe he hadn't slept in days. He comes in and takes a seat in that same booth you were at this morning." She paused a moment and took another slow drag on her cigarette. "Like I said before, we get all sorts in this place, so this guy isn't really anything out of the norm. Just some poor dope, down on his luck, you know? Except I'm taking his order and I realize that he's got some pretty serious burn scars on like half his face and one of his hands. But you know, the funny thing is, even despite all the scarring and rough exterior stuff, he's still pretty good looking. Like maybe he was _really_ attractive in his younger years with his dark, smooth skin and nice build. Just overall kind of pleasant to look at, know what I'm saying?"

At this point, my heart's skipping a few beats because guess what? I know _exactly_ what this lady's saying. And I'm positively terrified of what comes next in this story.

"So the guy sits and orders something to drink," she continued, "And he's watching the door like he's waiting for someone. He waits and waits and waits, but it's kind of obvious after a while that whoever he's waiting for isn't going to show, so eventually he gets his things and leaves."

"W _hy the hell did you let him leave_?" I scream in my head. "Maybe you should have offered to help," I say instead in an attempt to play it cool.

The waitress nodded. "I probably should have _,_ but the funny thing is, he came back the next two days and did the exact same thing. Ordered something to drink, sat, and waited. But the mysterious third party never showed, and he started getting all agitated. Finally I couldn't take all that disappointment anymore, and I decided to ask him who he was waiting for."

I held my breath waiting for the answer.

"I'll never forget what happened next. This poor guy gets this faraway look in his eyes and shakes his head, real defeated like, shoulders sagging as if I'd just told him that he'd lost everything he had in life. Starts muttering things to himself, and I'm beginning to worry a little because I've seen this kind of thing before. Guys coming back from overseas, all messed up and unsettled and still fighting all those invisible enemies. So not knowing what else to do, I ask if there's someone I can call, but he just shakes his head, gets up and leaves again."

My heart is absolutely pounding at this point. Because even though I can't quite understand or even begin to process how everything in this crazy story fits together, I can definitely see the man—the ghost—this woman's describing. I can see him because I've seen him before. In fact, I have absolutely no doubt that he's the man I thought I'd never be seeing again.

"You…you said this was a few weeks ago?" I ask, my mouth going dry, barely allowing the hope that this could all be true.

"Well, sure. But I haven't even gotten to the good part of the story yet. I don't see him again for a few days after all that. Maybe even a week." She polished off her cigarette and stamped it out on the pavement. "And then all the sudden he's back, sitting in that same booth. And this time he hands me that picture I showed you and asks if I've seen the person in the portrait. At this point, I'm thinking this guy's way off his rocker, total mental health issues and who knows what else, but he's got this look in his eyes that's so damn sincere. Like the person in that picture is life or death for him. So I tell him I've never seen that person at the diner before, but I promised I'd call if I ever did."

I stood there, chewing on my lip, still trying to comprehend what I've been hearing. I'm not really sure what game this lady's playing at, but one thing's for sure, it's sounding way too elaborate to just be some made up story. Ricardo Carlos Manoso has been to this diner. Recently. And furthermore, he sounds as if he's got some majorly thick mental fog going on (quite possibly some serious memory issues or maybe even brain damage), enough so that he hasn't thought to notify anyone to cancel his pending funeral. Not only that, but he's also had to recreate a picture and/or a memory through pieces of other pictures. And yet despite all of that, he's been here. Here. Ranger's been looking for me.

I finally look up at the waitress, my expression stern and resolute. "Go make that call."

###

I pace in the back alley for what feels like an eternity, preparing to meet a ghost, and this is both oddly exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. Because this Ranger may not be the man I've been mourning for the last few weeks. He could very well be someone different, especially given his previous odd behavior. And to be honest, I have no idea what to do with that.

But then those fears become completely overshadowed by an all-consuming joy. Because someone I loved and thought was lost for good is not lost at all. He's alive! And suddenly I don't care if the man coming to meet me is a shadow of the person I once knew. I don't care because even a shadow of Ranger is still Ranger, and at the end of the day, that's all that really matters. The rest I'm convinced we can work out or work around. We've done it before.

The minutes or hours or years tick by, and suddenly the waitress is coming to look for me. The moment's finally here, and she's smiling because she says she never thought this kind of thing happened in real life. To be honest, I'm not sure it happens either, but I'm going back in that diner now, and an old, familiar tingling feeling has my heart fluttering like it's my first day of school. I can feel something big looming on the horizon, and it feels as if my world is about ready to explode.

Then BOOM!

There he is. Sitting in our booth with tired eyes, scruffy facial hair, and scars that are more than painful to look at, but it's _him_. And I still can't believe it. Tears well in my eyes, but I fight them back with every fiber of my being because I don't want the picture before me to distort or blur or disappear. I've lost him too many times now to let that happen again. So instead, I slide into the booth across from him and wait.

There's this long, terrible silence between us, and it's almost more than I can bear. His eyes keep scanning me, narrowing as if he's not quite able to process what he's looking at. He takes in one detail at a time, studying each as if he's attempting to put together pieces of an impossible puzzle.

Then finally I can't take it anymore, and I open my mouth to ask him just one single, terrifying question. "Do you…know who I am?"

His eyes blink a few times, and for a moment I'm not sure if he's heard me. Or else I'm panicking, wondering if I've somehow made a huge mistake.

But then I see it. The slightest twitch of a smile at the corner of his beautiful, scarred mouth. "Stephanie Plum," he says, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're late."

At that moment, a sudden, overwhelming surge of emotion renders me completely speechless, and all I can do is smile. He's right, of course. In so many ways. But…you know what they say.


	63. Chapter 63

Epilogue

 _Once upon a time there was a girl, a naïve yet brave adventurer who wanted to see everything and do everything, but more than anything, she wanted desperately to fly. Then one fateful day she met a dragon, a mysterious and terrifying creature with a dark past and an uncertain future. But despite her reservations and fears, the adventurer was enchanted by the dragon. She befriended it, and in exchange, the dragon did the unthinkable. The dragon taught her to fly._

 _The two became inseparable, a team of fierce fire and heart, until one day a dark magic descended on their little world, and the dragon began to disappear. The adventurer tried desperately to save him, attempting every bit of magic she knew, but the more she tried, the faster he seemed to disappear. So one day, in an effort to save the dragon—and herself—she left._

 _Fire and heart remained separated for many long years._

 _Until one day the dragon found his adventurer once again. And although the dark magic still remained and the dragon continued to disappear, he spent his last days reminding her what it was like to fly. Then the magic claimed the dragon, and he disappeared completely, leaving behind a broken-hearted adventurer who knew without her dragon, she would never fly again._

 _Except an older, stronger magic still existed. A magic of dragons that were dark and rare and unyielding. The fierce beasts could not be tamed nor could they be owned, held captive, or commanded. But if a dragon_ chose _to give his heart away, an unbreakable bond was forged; a bond not even dark magic could overpower._

 _A long time ago, the disappearing dragon had given the adventurer his heart in secret, without her even knowing. So once the dark magic finally lifted, the tired and battered dragon found his way back to the adventurer once again. And the two lived out their remaining days together as if they'd never been apart._

 _The End_

 _A/N: I have to admit, there were days I thought I'd never finish this, but I appreciate that so many of you believed that I could. Michelle, your encouragement has been invaluable! You've shown nothing but support from the very first post I made here on fanfiction, and the friendship we've forged over the years has been great. You've always seen the best in my writing, and you have always been willing to suffer through my crazy whims and ideas. Thank you! And Matt, you're a relatively new inspiration, but I couldn't have finished this without you either. Thank you for keeping me in a good place for writing. The laughs and smiles never stop coming with you, and they've proven to be such wonderful weapons against the fierce foe of writer's block. You're the best, and if I can ever help you tackle your own Mt. Everest, I'll be happy to help in any way I can. To the rest of you, you make the hours of writing all worthwhile. Your reactions are priceless, and your engagement in the story is far more than I could've ever even hoped for. Thank you for being the best readers and supporters! I hope you all have enjoyed the story._


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